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SERMONS 



BY THE LATE REV, CIIA.RUES JEWK-OfSj 



PASTOR OF THE 



THIRD CONGREGATIONAL, CHURCH, 



PORTLAND. 




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A. SHIRLEY... ..PRINTER, 



1832 

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J3/rk s 3 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1832, 
BY JOSEPH LIBBEY, 

ia the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Maine, 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



It is not always the case, that a preacher's reputation 
among his contemporaries is commensurate with his actual 
worth. While some riot in popular favor, and ' the world 
goeth after them,' others, whose labors may be connected 
with equally important results, pass their days on earth in 
comparative silence, blessing their race in a thousand 
ways, without being extensively known as benefactors. 
It is not till they are removed from this world, that their 
agency and influence are fully appreciated beyond the 
little circle of those, who had narrowly observed their 
" doctrine, manner of life, purpose, faith, long-suffering, 
charity, patience." dualities, that leave the most salu- 
tary and permanent impression, are not always those which 
excite, at first, the greatest admiration. Some men seem 
qualified by their constitutional properties, as well as by 
the nature of their attainments, to labor at the c founda- 
tions,' which by their instrumentality are kept from * going 
out of course;' while others are seen and heard around, 
or aloft on, the superstructure, which, to casual or unre- 
flecting beholders, appears to rise by their unaided efforts. 
This diversity of gifts is one of the admirable provisions 
of the great Head of the church for advancing the tri- 
umphs of truth, and subjugating the world to his sway. 

The author of the discourses herewith presented to the 



IV ADVERTISEMENT. 

public, is believed to belong to that class of teachers, who, 
"though dead," ought to be permitted to "speak" for 
the good of survivors, and of souls yet to be born. His 
sermons are thought to possess characteristics, which fit 
them for permanent usefulness. They will bear repeated 
perusal — an invaluable quality, for which the scriptures 
of truth are preeminently distinguished. Familiarity with 
them will not detract from the reader's estimate of their 
worth ; on the contrary, the more frequently these ser- 
mons are read, the more will their excellencies be devel- 
oped, and the more highly will they be prized. Such, at 
least, has been the effect on the superintendents of this 
publication, of those repeated perusals which the collation 
and printing of its contents rendered unavoidable. Their 
high character as compositions, it is hoped, will gain for 
them a degree of attention from a class of persons, who 
bore no sympathy in the sentiments of the departed preach- 
er. The church, whose members were best qualified, 
from their relation to the author, to appreciate his discour- 
ses, early took measures to secure the publication of this 
volume ; and it is not doubted that their conduct, and the 
judgment on which it proceeded, will receive the hearty 
sanction of the religious community ; — to whom and God's 
blessing it is confidently commended. 



CONTENTS 



SERMON I. 

Character and Claims of Revelation. 

page. 
Search the Scriptures ; for in them ye think ye have eternal 

life; and they are they which testify of me. — John v. 39. 13 

SERMON IT. 

Character of the Unrenewed. 

The carnal mind is enmity against God.- — Romans viii. 7. 27 

SERMON III. 

Results and Uses of the Fact of human De- 
pravity. 

The carnal mind is enmity against God. — Romans viii. 7. 40 

SERMON IV. 

There is no Peace to the Wicked. 

The wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, 
whose waters cast up mire and dirt. There is no peace,, 
saith my God, to the wicked.— Isaiah lvii. 20, 21. - 54 

1* 



Vl' CONTENTS., 

SERMON V. 

The Wicked urged to forsake his Way. 

Seek ye the Lord, while he may be found, call ye upon him 
while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way, and 
the unrighteous man his thoughts ; and let him return 

- unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him ; and to 

our God; for he will abundantly pardon. — Isaiah lv. 6, 7. 65" 

SERMON VI. 
The Harbinger'' s Cry addressed to Christians. 

Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. — 

Matthew iii. 3. - - - - - 77 

SERMON VII. 

The Harbinger's Cry addressed to Sinners. 

Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. — 

Matthew iii. 3. - - ... - 89 

SERMON VIII. 

Ends accomplished by Chrisfs Sacrifice. 

Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all 
iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people zeal- 
ous of good works. — Titus ii. 14. - - - 102 

SERMON IX. 

Value and Test of Chrisfs Friendship. 

Ye are my friends if ye do whatsover I command you. — 

John xv. 14. - - 114 



CONTENTS. ¥11 

SERMON X. 

Subjection to Christ, and Instruction from Him. 

Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me ; for I am meek 
and lowly in heart : and ye shall find rest unto your souls. 
—Matthew xi. 29. - - - - - 126 

SERMON XI. 

The convicted Sinner r s anxious Inquiry. 

Now when they heard this, they were pricked in their 
heart, and said unto Peter, and to the rest of the apostles 
— Men and brethren, what shall we do? — Acts ii. 37. - 138 

SERMON XII. 

Millennial Scenes anticipated. 

Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as the doves to their 
windows? — Isaiah Ix. 8. -• - - 152 

SERMON XIII. 

The Gospel a Message of Peace. 

1 create the fruit of the lips — peace, peace to him that is 
far ofF, and to him that is near, saith the Lord — and I will 
heal him. — Isaiah Ivii. 19. 164 

SERMON XIV. 

Transitory Nature of earthly Things. 

For here have we no continuing city, but we seek one to 
come. — Hebrews xiii. 14. - - - 176 



Vlii CONTENTS. 

SERMON XV. 

Preparation for Death. 

2'herefore be ye also ready : for in such an hour as ye think 
not, the Son of man cometh. — Matthew xxiv. 44. - 190 

SERMON XVI. 

Marts Interest inseparable from his Duty. 

If thou be wise, thou shalt be wise for thyself; but if thou 

seornest, thou aione shalt bear it. — Proverbs ix. 12. 202 

SERMON XVII. 

The Wisdom of Moseses Choice. 

€hoosing rather to surfer affliction with the people of God, 
than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season. — Hebrews 
xi. 25. - - - - -....---..,. 215 

SERMON XVIII. 

A Characteristic of true Faith. 

He that belie veth shall not make haste. — Isaiah xxviiL 16. 229 

SERMON XIX. 

Objects and Effects of the Christian Hope. 

And every man that hath this hope in him, purifieth him- 
self, even as he is pure. — 1 John iii. 3. ... 243 

SERMON XX. 

Repentance of Judas. 

Then Judas which had betrayed him, when he saw that he 



CONTENTS. 1XL 

was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the 
thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, saying 
I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood. 
And they said, what is that to us ? see thou to that. 
And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and 
departed, and went and hanged himself. — Matthew xxvii. 
3, 4, 5. 255 



SERMON XXI. 

Repentance of Peter. 

And immediately, while he yet spake, the cock crew. And 
the Lord turned, and looked upon Peter; and Peter re- 
membered the word of the Lord, how he had said unto 
him, before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice.. 
And Peter went out and wept bitterly. — Luke xxii. 60, 
61,62. - - - - ' 267 



SERMON XXII. 

Salvation by Grace. 

By grace are ye saved through faith ; and that not of your- 
selves ; it is the gift of God. — Ephesians ii. 8. - 280 

SERMON XXIII. 

A Revival of Religion Gotfs wonderful Work. 

Unto thee, O God, do we give thanks — unto thee do we give 
thanks ; for that thy name is near, thy wondrous works 
declare. — Psalm lxxv. ] . - - - - - - 292 

SERMON* XXIV. 

Responsibilities of the Christian Ministry. 

Who is sufficient for these things ? — 2 Corinthians ii. 16. 304 

* The author's last anniversary Sermon. 



X CONTENTS. « 

SERMON XXV. 

An awful Visitation religiously improved. 

Surely the mountain falling cometh to nought, and the rock 
is removed out of his place. The waters wear the stones ; 
thou washest away the things which grow out of the dust 
of the earth; and thou destroyest the hope of man. — Job 
xiv. 18, 19. -. 325 

SERMON XXVI. 

Spring. 

Thou renewest the face of the earth.— Psalm civ. 30. 336 

SERMON XXVII. 

Autumn. 

All the trees of the field are withered. — Joel i. 12. 346 

SERMON XXVIII. 

The fleeting Pageantry of Earth. 

The fashion of this world passeth away .— 1 Corinthians vii. 31. 356 

SERMON XXIX. 
Expostulation with young Men. 

Run, speak to this young man. — Zechariah ii. 4. - 366 

SERMON XXX. 

The Believer's Refuge in Calamity. 

Come, my people, enter thou into thy chambers, and shut 



CONTENTS. XI 

thy doors about thee : hide thyself as it were for a little 
moment, until the indignation be overpast. — Isa, xxvi. 20. 381 



SERMON* XXXI. 
The Believers Conflict and Victory. 

And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and the 
word of their testimony : and they loved not their lives 
unto the death. — Revelation xii. 11. - - - * 393 

* The last Sermon the author preached. 



■., 






SUHMOI¥ I 



Character and Claims of Revelation. 



JOHN V: 39. 

SEARCH THE SCRIPTURES J FOR IN THEM YE THINK YE HAVE 
ETERNAL LIFE ; AND THEY ARE THEY WHICH TESTIFY OF ME. 



The works of God confessedly invite and deserve 
investigation. The more carefully they are examined, 
the more fully and strikingly they reveal his wisdom, 
power, and benevolence. Even the scrutiny of philo- 
sophical research, when rightly directed, the farther it 
has been urged, has invariably led to wider and more 
accurate discoveries of the divine character. But such 
examination has never been thus directed by man's na- 
tive powers. Left to himself, man has only departed 
farther and farther from those truths, which the simple 
school of nature teaches. And when it was found, that, 
amidst the grandest and most impressive features of the 
divine wisdom and goodness stamped upon the fabric 
of his material works, man by wisdom knew not God, 
by the loftiest stretch of his unaided powers gained no 
right views of his character, it pleased him, in con- 
descension to that weakness and ignorance which sin 
brought over the human mind, to step aside from the 
course of his creative operations, and to disclose him- 
self to man by intelligible enunciations of his own holy 
nature, his spiritual requirements, and his merciful de- 
signs. He gave to our world the volume of his grace, 
2 



14 CHARACTER AND CLAIMS 

This volume contains all that man needs to know of 
God, of himself, of his wants, and of his destination. 
It is, moreover, so full and lucid in its disclosures, that 
the feeblest mind is able to avoid seriously mistaken, or 
fatal views of it. And yet the same moral torpor, which 
sealed up to the apprehension of fallen man the book 
of nature, has, age after age, left a large proportion of 
those whose circumstances afforded them an opportuni- 
ty of knowing the holy scriptures, entirely destitute of 
any saving acquaintance with them. This was very 
generally the case with the nation of Israel in the days 
of our Saviour's incarnation. If they were not wholly 
inattentive to the word of God, they did not seek the 
Spirit to aid their examination of it. If they were not 
wholly unacquainted with the letter, they were surpris- 
ingly ignorant of its spiritual import. Indeed, it was 
their sluggish unconcern about the sacred word, which 
occasioned their mistaken notions respecting their com- 
ing Messiah, and their guilty and ruinous rejection of 
him. They had some vague impressions that through 
the disclosures of the law and the prophets, a happy im- 
mortality would become theirs. But evidently they con- 
cerned not themselves to learn the method devised and 
revealed by Heaven, through which they might attain 
unto eternal life. They did not examine the scriptures 
in reference to this momentous concern. It was on this 
account, that he, who was at once the great Revealer, 
and the great object revealed, of their scriptures, ex- 
horted them to attend to this duty. Search the 

SCRIPTURES ; FOR IN THEM YE THINK ¥E HAVE ETER- 
NAL LIFE ; AND THEY ARE THEY WHICH TESTIFY OF ME. 

There can be no occasion for attempting to show that 
very many, who are in possession of the entire canon of 
scripture, treat it with as much indifference and neglect, 
as the Jews did the law and the prophets. The fact is 
so obvious, that it may be safely assumed. Notwith- 
standing copies of the whole sacred volume are greatly 
multiplied and placed within the reach of every mem- 



OF REVELATION. 15 

ber of our community, it is not searched. Not a few 
causes peculiar to our own age, are allowed to prevent 
the requisite attention to the bible. With some, attention 
to the calls to religious action may be permitted to pre- 
vent, or to become a substitute for attention to the or- 
acles of God. The number, variety, and interest of 
books and publications of a nominally religious charac- 
ter, so take up and absorb the attention of others, as to 
leave but little opportunity for the word of life to come 
in for its due share of interested regard. So that, as 
there is certainly no less occasion for this injunction of 
Christ now, than when he uttered it, we must conclude 
he intended its application to extend to us. For it is 
always necessary for sinful man to search the scrip- 
tures. Manifestly, however, the Saviour's injunction 
looks to the manner in which the scripture is to be 
searched, as well as recognizes the particular ends, for 
which our minds should be given to its examination. It 
will be rny aim, therefore, in this discourse, after glanc- 
ing at several considerations, suited to invite our interest- 
ed attention to the inspired volume, to point out the way 
in which it should be studied, and the special objects 
for which it should engage our earnest regard. 

I. It is -proper to notice a few considerations fitted 
to interest the mind in an examination of the scriptures. 
There is enough, indeed, to awaken the liveliest inter- 
est in this duty, in the single consideration that God re- 
quires it. He who has given us the bible bids us search 
it. It can, of course, never cease to be the plain and 
urgent duty of all who possess it, carefully to examine 
it. With many, I trust, this is a paramount and prevail- 
ing consideration. But I wave this for the present, and 
commend the sacred scriptures to the studious exam- 
ination of my fellow men from another class of reasons. 

Their antiquity claims regard. They undeniably 
contain the most ancient authentic record of past events, 
extant in our world. Indeed, they contain the only 
history in existence, drat deserves the least credence, of 



16 CHARACTER AND CLAIMS 

those early and most deeply interesting events that took 
place, during the period of twenty or thirty centuries af- 
ter the creation. But for the bible, we should be wholly 
in the dark respecting the creation of the world, the ori- 
gin of our species, their original purity and happiness in 
their Creator's favor, their subsequent ruinous apostacy, 
the destruction of the old world by the deluge, the con- 
fusion of tongues and the consequent dispersion of men 
over the face of the earth, the selection of one family 
as the depositary of the true religion, and nearly the 
whole chain of their eventful history, for a succession of 
ages. Now, aside from the importance and utility of this 
faithful detail of transactions^ so momentous in their na- 
ture and consequences, the bare circumstance of its an- 
tiquity gives it interest and attractions of no common pow- 
er. It belongs to our nature to be susceptible of strong 
emotions from the contemplation of any object, that has 
come down to us from ages far back in the dim distance 
of time elapsed. No one, without emotions of strong 
and absorbing interest, could stand up amidst the ruins 
of Palmyra, Babylon, or even of Carthage, and gaze at 
these mute relics of ages gone. But the bible is in some 
sense a relic of those ages, that followed the very birth 
of time. Some portions of it were written by holy men, 
under a divine inspiration, three or four thousand years 
ago. They who believe this, must feel drawn to an ex- 
amination of it with a livelier interest and a keener zest, 
than even the most enthusiastic virtuoso feels in explor- 
ing the ruins and scrutinizing the material relics of an- 
tiquity. Here are facts older than even creation itself. 
Here stand memorials of events that transpired before 
sin had an existence in the universe of God — memori- 
als transmitted, not to nourish a curiosity merely to pry 
into the wonders of past ages, but to explain and clear 
up difficulties apparent in the existing phenomena of the 
natural and moral world, that must otherwise have re- 
mained painfully inexplicable. 

The sublimity of the scriptures invites attention. The 



OF REVELATION. 



17 



Author of the bible has formed us with minds that are 
strongly affected by exhibitions of the sublime, either in 
thought, in conduct, or in the forms of inanimate nature. 
It is impossible to survey the awful features of his pow- 
er, which are impressed on his material works, without 
strong emotion. It is for the purpose of enjoying the 
luxury of such deep excitement, that the scenes of this 
marvellous display of almighty power are thronged with 
eager beholders. Some millions have been drawn to 
that spot, where are to be witnessed in the surrounding 
agitations, the deafening thunder, and the dizzying pour 
of awful Niagara, those solemn interrogatories in which, 
for ages, deep has been calling unto deep. Still more 
absorbing and thrilling a. e emotions from the contem- 
plation of those lofty acts — those moral wonders, which 
are sometimes achieved by men. Yet there is nothing 
within the range of finite minds, of a character so fitted 
to raise these high emotions, as the sublimity of thought, 
of language, and of imagery, with which the scriptures 
abound. In this respect, they surpass all that can be 
found in the field of human literature. This point is 
very generally conceded by those best qualified to judge 
in the case. Indeed, when it is considered who are the 
writers, and what are the subjects of the bible, it might 
be expected that its sublimity would be without a par- 
allel. Holy men, inspired by the divine Spirit for this 
very purpose, wrote the bible. Their views partook of 
a grandeur which no mere elevation of intellect or vigor 
of imagination attains. They took their views from an 
eminence to which the pinions of fancy never carries 
men. And then their subjects — the theme of angel 
songs and angel minds — the perfections of the Eternal 
developed in the work of creative might and redeeming 
mercy ! Thus lifted up to the mount of vision, and 
dwelling on themes from which their own inspiration 
came, it is surprising that their thoughts should ever 
move on the level of common minds, and that their de- 
scriptions of the things of God should not, in thought, 



18 CHARACTER AND CLAIMS 

expression, and imagery, more frequently rise to a char- 
acter of grandeur with which our minds have little pow- 
er to sympathize. That they have a sublimity, so un- 
earthly, and yet so intelligible, imparts to the bible a pe- 
culiar interest, and invests it with attractions which we 
may well feel. To share the rapturous emotions which 
are excited by objects of peculiar grandeur, we have no 
need to go and listen to the voice of many waters, to 
gaze at the great and marvellous in the Creator's mate- 
rial works, or to witness the lofty efforts of his creatures. 
We may taste this luxury, by opening the bible. There 
is more sublimity in its still small voice r than in the roar 
of deafening cataracts ; there is more in its descriptions 
of spiritual things to thrill the soul with sublime emo- 
tions, than in all the awful lineaments stamped on the 
face of inanimate nature : there is more of true sublimi- 
ty in the simple story of the incarnation and sufferings 
of Jesus, than in all the records of human achievements, 
magnanimous daring, and uncomplaining suffering. 

The purity of the scriptures recommends them to our 
interested notice. Written by holy men, inspired by the 
Holy Spirit, the bible itself is holy. It is holy, not sim- 
ply in that sense in which things are holy that are devo- 
ted to a holy purpose. The bible, indeed, is holy in 
this respect ; but apart from the purpose for which it 
was given, and separate from the agency it exerts, it is 
in itself absolutely and exclusively holy. The men who 
wrote it were holy in an inferior sense — they were par- 
tially sanctified believers, and devoted to this holy ser- 
vice. But the scriptures derived not their holy char- 
acter from those by whose agency they were handed 
down from heaven. They came from that high world 
of light and purity, bearing its image, possessing its char- 
acter, and diffusing its spirit. Now a volume clearly 
bearing the holy impressions of its heavenly character 
and origin, must possess incomparable value any where. 
It could be sent to no portion of Jehovah's moral crea- 
tion, to whom it would not come as a treasure of great 



OF REVELATION. 19 

worth. But what must be its worth to a fallen world — 
to a race like our own, who, through sin, have lost not 
only the image of God, but their original instinctive 
perception of the immutable standard of heavenly rec- 
titude, and the image of heavenly purity ? Left with- 
out the bible, not one of our species could have known 
how far we have fallen by transgression, and how high 
we need to be raised, in order to enjoy the bliss of hea- 
ven. Without the bible, we have no measure by which 
to estimate the guilt and misery of sin, and the purity 
and blessedness of a state of perfect exemption from 
both. The bible affords this knowledge, and furnishes 
this measure, by revealing a law which bears a full im- 
pression of Jehovah's character, and by showing through- 
out its pages, that entire obedience to that law, or per- 
fect holiness, is the lowest service that is required of us, 
and the lowest point of moral excellence at which we 
can be capacitated for the felicities of Heaven. In the 
scriptures, and there only can we see 

How fair 
The creature is whom God pronounces good — 
How lovely in itself what pleases him. 

Amidst the darkness, pollution, and misery of a fallen 
world, we can look into the sacred scriptures, and take 
some correct views of the light, and purity, and joy of a 
sinless state. 

The power of the scriptures commends them to our 
serious regard. We may learn the greatness o( their 
power from the extent of their effects. Though includ- 
ed in comparatively a small volume, wherever they have 
gone abroad among the inhabitants of our world, they 
change the aspect, new-mould the habits, and give to 
the pursuits of a community, a new and more elevated 
direction. The slightest glance at two separate com- 
munities, one of which is favored with the word of God ? 
and the other is not, will reveal the mighty influence of 
that word. It will be seen in whatever tends to elevate, 
refine, and dignify our species. It will be seen in the pro- 
gress of science and the arts, of taste and literature, of lib- 



20 CHARACTER AND CLAIMS 

erty and free institutions. In a word, it will be seen in the 
universal improvement of the outward condition of man. 
But the influence which the scriptures are thus seen to 
exert, is incidental, indirect, and apart from the specific 
field, the appropriate sphere of their operations. That 
they effect these favorable changes in the outward con- 
dition of man, is because they achieve still greater won- 
ders in his inward and spiritual condition. Here they 
are subduing, transforming, and purifying. Indeed, it 
is to man as a sinner and heir of endless retribution, 
that the scriptures are especially adapted. Their grand 
errand is to the human heart. They have power to 
find their way to the heart through the foldings of every 
disguise, and through the panoply of the most finished 
obduracy, They are the sword that pierces even to the 
dividing asunder of soul and spirit. They are like as 
afire, and like a hammer, that breaketh the rock in 
pieces. They are that voice of the Lord that is power- 
fid — that voice of the Lord that is full of majesty — that 
voice of the Lord that breaketh the cedars — yea, that 
breaketh the cedars of Lebanon. But I need not dwell 
on this characteristic of the scriptures. Witnesses of 
their power are found wherever there are subdued wills, 
purified affections, submissive tempers, and obedient 
lives. Nay, heaven itself is thronged with the trophies 
of the scripture's subduing, purifying, and consoling 
power. They can do that for lost and perishing men, 
which the whole created universe cannot. 

The perpetuity of the scriptures presents a reason 
why they should receive attention. They are essential 
truth, and truth is indestructible and eternal. Objects 
are usually deemed worthy of regard which are not only 
of present importance, but of a permanent and abiding- 
character. Such are the scriptures. They abide for- 
ever. The word of our God shall stand forever. For- 
ever, O Lord, thy word is settled in heaven. Heaven 
and earth shall pass away, but my word shall never 
pass away. These same scriptures, which are now 



OF REVELATION. 21 

open to our inspection, and soliciting our careful no- 
tice, in all their great truths and developements, will re- 
main the field for the deathless spirit's contemplation 
forever. It is not, then, a volume like the ephemeral 
works of men, which we are required to search, but 
one as enduring as the throne of God, and of as per- 
petual interest to our immortal minds. Does it not, 
then, deserve to be searched ? 

II. I come now to point out in a few words the way 
in which the scriptures should be searched. The very 
term employed by our Saviour in this injunction, shows 
that something more than the bare perusal of the scrip- 
tures is intended. Among the Jews, to whom the text 
was originally addressed, there was the form of an at- 
tention to the law and the prophets. It is known they 
gloried in their knowledge of the letter of their scrip- 
tures, and their ability to repeat them with great accu- 
racy. But this was not searching them. I may, there- 
fore, observe, that 

The scriptures should be studied and examined with 
great reverence. Objects of great antiquity awaken our 
veneration. We cannot contemplate those of great sub- 
limity without sentiments of awful regard. Those of 
high moral elevation and purity, are viewed with in- 
stinctive emotions of respect. Nor can such as possess 
the character of mighty efficacy, and ever during im- 
portance, fail to excite within us feelings of reverence 
and awe. Now all of these considerations are combi- 
ned in our contemplation of the inspired volume. And 
these may well inspire our bosoms with reverential 
dread, when we look into its sacred pages. But there 
is another, in some degree, distinct from these, which 
ought to secure our devout reverence in all our exam- 
inations o( the bible. It is this : The bible is the word 
of the great and eternal Jehovah ! How fitting, then, 
that we should bring to its perusal, a deep and tender 
awe of spirit, 

The scriptures should be searched with earnest dili-^ 



22 CHARACTER AND CLAIMS 

gence. The bible, though a plain book, treats of the 
deep things of God. Of course it contains many things 
too hard to be understood by those who give it only a 
hasty and careless perusal. It must be studied. It 
must be searched. It must be examined with a care- 
ful notice of the mutual connexion and dependence of 
its several parts. Its true meaning must be searched 
for as for hid treasure. There must be a diligent inves- 
tigation — a cautious tracing of its great truths through- 
out its separate portions. With time for such studious 
application of mind to the bible, and the means requi- 
site for its critical investigation, no one has a right to 
expect he shall become mighty in the scriptures, if 
these means are not improved. And who has not time 
enough to be a diligent student of the sacred word ? 

The scriptures should be searched with feelings of 
cordial dependence on divine teaching, in order to un- 
derstand them. Needful as it is that the scriptures be 
searched with diligence, it is equally so that they be 
searched under the guidance and illumination of the 
Holy Spirit. The bible can never be understood by 
the mere dint of study. It is a spiritual book, and if 
we are ever able to understand it as we ought, it will 
be owing to the teaching of the Holy Spirit — comparing 
spiritual things with spiritual. A sense of depend- 
ance on the Spirit, must then, accompany our diligence ; 
fervent prayer must go along with our study. Why is 
that man who has undertaken to interpret and preach 
the gospel, as ignorant of its spiritual import as though 
he had never read it ? Simply because he has not 
sought and obtained divine teaching, in his investigation 
of the lively oracles. So that in this department of in- 
quiry, it is eminently true that " to have fervently pray- 
ed, is to have successfully studied." 

The scriptures should be searched with a heartfelt 
confidence in the truth and reality of all the great things 
they reveal. Has God spoken to man ? Was all scrip- 
ture given by inspiration of God^ Then there is 



OF REVELATION. 23 

broad and unshaken ground of confidence in all its dis- 
closures. This confidence should be cherished in the 
mind through all its careful investigations of the divine 
word. Unbelief will suggest difficulties at every step. 
The inexplicable things in this wonderful book, will 
come up to narrow the ground of this confidence. The 
great foe of God and his truth, will dart his cruel inti- 
mations into the mind, that some easier and safer meth- 
od of salvation may be found, than the bible discloses. 
Such fiery darts, may at times, almost shake the whole 
foundation of this confidence. But it must not be cast 
away, for it hath great present recompense of reward. 
According to its strength will be the benefits, derived 
from each successive investigation of the inspired record. 
And does not the unerring word of God deserve confi- 
dence ? Shall not the testimony which the living God, 
the God of truth has given of his Son, be believed? 

The scriptures should be searched with a spirit of 
practical obedience to their holy requisitions. In vain 
do we search the schiptures, if the examination is 
not attended with obedience. Obedience is the grand 
secret and test of a profitable investigation of the bible. 
Whoso will do the will of God, shall know of the doc- 
trines of his word. To the obedient student of the di- 
! vine word, however limited bis opportunities or feeble 
| ! his powers, that word shall not be a sealed book. For 
i the things concerned in the eternal life, which the 
i scriptures bring to light, intricate and difficult as they 
\ i are to the disputers of this world, are plain to him that 
I so believes as to obey. And what profit can it be to 
funs to search for treasures, which we will not improve — 
i what benefit to explore the field of everlasting truth, if 
we will not receive and obey it — what advantage that 
we examine the chart that accurately marks the dan- 
gers, and points out the course along a perilous voyage, 
if we heedlessly disregard its directions ? This brings 
• me to observe, 

III. There are certain leading objects to be kept in 



24 CHARACTER AND CLAIMS 

view as the grand end and aim of all our investigations 
of the scriptures. Under another head several consid- 
erations were mentioned of a character suited to invite 
to such investigations. But the great reason why we 
should search the scriptures, as has been pointed out, is, 
that they are the record of salvation — that they testify 
of Him who must be the foundation of all our hopes, 
that look beyond the grave. They disclose truths in 
relation to our guilt and the expiation ; our disease and 
the remedy, which must be known, and felt, and obeyed, 
before we can be saved. The text recognizes these 
considerations, and suggests two or three principal 
points to which our search of the scriptures should be 
especially directed. 

The first is eternal life. The doctrine of immortal- 
ity is peculiar to the bible. Excepting so far as some 
vestiges of revealed truth have reached, amidst the dark- 
ness of the heathen world, the immortality of the hu- 
man soul has been an object rather of solicitous desire, 
than of confident expectation. The scriptures alone 
present this great truth in a clear and unquestionable 
light. All the leading doctrines they contain, and all 
the great provisions for human welfare which they re- 
veal, continually refer to this truth, as the single one 
that gives importance and value to them all. But in 
regard to the future destination of man, the scriptures 
do not stop at the simple annunciation, that an eternal 
range of being stretches before him beyond the grave. 
This immortality may be an eternal life of glory, 
honor, and peace ; or a deathless death of shame, con- 
tempt, indignation, and wrath. Now the scriptures 
describe the nature of this eternal life ; they con- 
tain the instrument that ensures its possession to peni- 
tent believers ; they point out the only path that infal- 
libly conducts to it ; and they disclose the only ground 
upon which the hopes of it can rest. To these things I 
they who would search the scriptures need to give 
their earnest heed. My hearers believe the scriptures. 



OF REVELATION. 25 

In them, ye think ye have eternal life. In some 
way or other, it is probable, each one of us is expect- 
ing heaven by means of the scriptures. But such ex- 
pectation will prove vain and fatal, if we do not search 
them for this very end. If we do not search for and 
experience something of the nature of eternal life 
now, our attention to the word of life, will leave us sub- 
ject to eternal death. 

Another object to which the mind should be earnestly 
turned in searching the scriptures, is He, who is the 
way and the truth, and the life. They are they 
which testify of Christ. He is the grand subject 
of the bible. His person, offices, and work, invite at- 
tention on almost every page. It was the Old Testa- 
ment which in the text is said to testify of Christ. 
The spirit of Christ in the prophets testified beforehand, 
of him. In the New Testament he is more exclusively 
the subject. But we may study the bible, and yet not 
be led to the Saviour. Unless with a strong conviction 
of our necessities as sinners, we come to the bible to 
find a Saviour from sin, and resolve to persevere in 
the search until our souls rest upon him, we do not come 
with the object in view which should fill our minds and 
affect our hearts. If we do not come to find, and fol- 
low in the way to heaven, our examination will do us 
no essential good. And yet in this way we ought ever 
to come — in this way we can come — and in this way 
actually coming, we may confidently expect to find 
eternal life — for it is life eternal to know Christ — 
to confide in the record, that God hath given us eter- 
nal life, and this life is in his Son. He that hath the 
Son hath life ; he that hath not the Son hath not life, 
but the wrath of God abideth on him. 

Finally, we should search the scRiPTUREs/or that 
sanctification through the truth, which is requisite to the 
enjoyment of eternal life. Without holiness we 
cannot enjoy God. The scriptures are the great instru- 
ment of making us so. We cannot become holy with- 
3 



26 CLAIMS OF REVELATION. 

out them. And yet we may search them, and not be 
sanctified. In order that they may be instrumental of 
this effect on ourselves, we must desire it — we must 
receive cordially the great peculiar truths they contain 
— we must apply them in all their naked power to our 
souls — we must obey them in the high spiritual demands 
they embrace. Without these ends in view, and these 
objects desired, we shall search the record of salvation 
in vain. 

And why, my beloved hearers, will you not thus at- 
tend to the inspired volume ? It is as necessary as 
your salvation. You can give it the requisite attention. 
None of you can urge want of sufficient leisure as a rea- 
son for neglect. None of you can plead want of ability as 
an apology for neglect. None of you are too young or too 
old, too rich or too poor, too wise or too ignorant, to give 
the scriptures the earnest attention they merit and claim. 
But remember that you must search them for eternal 
life, and not merely to gratify taste or curiosity — not 
to arm yourselves with weapons for religious controversy 
— not from the bare promptings of habit — not for the 
alone sake of quieting the upbraidings of conscience ; 
but search them that you may become wise unto salva- 
tion through faith in Jesus Christ. If you will not 
henceforth search them thus, you will plainly declare 
that vou will not come to Christ that ye might have life. 



§EMCI1 II 



Character of the Unrenewed. 

ROMANS VIII. 7. 

THE CARNAL MIND IS ENMITY AGAINST GOO. 

It has been remarked, as the result of long observa- 
tion, that the progress of our knowledge of the native 
human character, is little else than a series of new dis- 
coveries of its moral defects. This, doubtless, is true, 
when that character is contemplated solely in reference 
to the low and varying standard of moral virtue which 
exclusively prevails, where the lofty and immutable re- 
quisitions of a spiritual religion are neither recognized 
nor felt. To these discoveries are chiefly owing the 
most painful disappointments, with which the life of man 
abounds. They who are just starting in their earthly 
course, are incessantly met with disclosures of selfish- 
ness, duplicity, and cold indifference, where their glow- 
ing anticipation had represented to them only a disin- 
terested, ingenuous, and fervent friendship. And it 
would be difficult to find an individual, that has nearly 
measured the ordinary limits of human life, however he 
may be accustomed to speculate on the abstract ques- 
tion relative to the nature and degree of human deprav- 
ity, who would hesitate to admit, that his long experi- 
ence has been, not with the virtues, but with the evils 
of the heart of man. And if we view our species in the 
light of those penal enactments, which have ever been 



28 CHARACTER OF 

multiplying in all civilized communities, to meet the 
fresh developements of moral depravation in crimes of 
new and diversified forms, we shall be constrained to 
admit, that we gain little new knowledge of human na- 
ture, that is not occupied with its vitiated qualities. But 
the progress of our knowledge by such means, is neces- 
sarily slow, and can never lead to any thing like a full 
discovery of the deep and universal corruption of the 
natural heart. It brings us to survey some of the streams 
which proceed from the impure fountain, not to search 
into and analyze the elements of that fountain. To 
such a thorough acquaintance with the native moral 
temper of the human mind, we can be led only by the 
light which beams from the word of God. He that 
teacheth man knowledge, shall he not know ? 

What are the inherent elements of man's character, 
is revealed in scripture, not only in the faithful history 
there given of him through a long succession of ages, 
but in the nature of the demands which the Searcher of 
hearts there makes upon him, and in the express state- 
ments it contains in relation to this subject. No other 
history of our race so impressively discloses the true na- 
ture, the strong actings, and the ruinous tendencies of 
the heart which is in man. The commands of Heaven 
there addressed to him, are adapted to a state of great 
degeneracy, of disastrous alienation, of guilt, of wretch- 
edness, and of ruin. But scripture abounds with state- 
ments announcing in the plainest terms, that such is the 
native moral condition of our whole species. The text 
is a specimen of these statements. The carnal mind is 
enmity against God. 

In this brief sentence it is stated that man is deprav- 
ed, and that his depravity consists in a state of mind 
actually opposed to God. Without the inspired record, 
it has been seen, some progress can be made in the 
knowledge of what is in the heart of man ; but revela- 
tion alone introduces us into an acquaintance with the 
circumstance, which constitutes the essence of the evil. 



THE UNRENEWED. 29 

It shows us the extent, the malignity, and the guiltiness 
of the evil. To none, but to such as are favored with 
the disclosures of scripture, can it occur that those per- 
verse inclinations — that wrong bias of the mind, of which 
they have some painful consciousness, is enmity against 
the infinite God. And none but those to whom the bi- 
ble conveys a special illumination, enlightening and pu- 
rifying the mind, can have any just perception of the 
tremendous guilt and peril of a state thus at war with 
heaven. For it is a part of the character of all who 
are in this state, to be blind to its most revolting and 
alarming circumstances. It is on this account, that so 
many entertain views of human depravity, most mani- 
festly at variance with the uniform representations of 
scripture. Now to open eyes thus blind, anil correct 
apprehensions thus mistaken, by illustrating and en- 
forcing the great doctrines of revelation on this point, 
is one of the appropriate agencies of the christian min- 
istry, to which I propose to give my feeble endeavors 
in the ensuing discourse. 

It can hardly be necessary to introduce here any ex- 
tended remarks to show, that the carnal mind denotes 
the natural moral state of every human mind. Through- 
out the New Testament the terms flesh and spirit are 
almost invariably used as opposed to each other. That 
which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is horn 
of the Spirit is spirit. The spirit, as used in such con- 
nexions, plainly signifies, the new spiritual frame created 
in the believer's mind, by the energy of the Holy Spir- 
it ; and consequently the flesh means the state of mind 
in which men are by nature. They that are after the 
flesh do mind the things of the flesh, and they that are 
after the Spirit, the things of the Spirit. The flesh 
lusteth against the Spirit and the Spirit against the 
flesh, and these are contrary the one to the other. How 
contrary they are the one to the other, may be seen in 
the apostle's minute specification of their separate fruits. 
In short, the one is the old man which is corrupt, af- 
3* 



30 CHARACTER OF 

ter the deceitful lusts. The other is the new man, 
which after God is created in righteousness and true 
holiness. The truth, then, which the inspired apostle 
intended to declare in the text, is, that the natural moral 
state of the human mind is enmity against God. 

It is requisite to observe, in this connexion, that the 
enmity of the carnally-minded against God, is not to be 
understood as indicating an utter absence of all quali- 
ties of an estimable and desirable nature. They whose 
state of mind is enmity against God, may possess many 
natural endowments of mind and qualities of heart, which 
are to be sought and commended. Intellectual eleva- 
tion, refinement of taste, warm and generous sensibilities 
to the wants and woes of others, and instinctive aver- 
sion to every species of low-bred and gross sensuality, 
may characterize them in a high degree. Nor is it to 
be inferred that, because they have a mind which is en- 
mity against God, they are of course equally impelled 
to all manner of spiritual wickedness. There may be 
many departments of transgression, which, from their 
pursuits, habits, and associations, they are not brought 
to explore. Alike without foundation is the inference, 
that all persons in their unrenewed state of mind, hav- 
ing the same carnal mind, and being enemies against 
God in their mind by wicked works, have reached the 
same measure of corruption and guilt. It is enough to 
ruin them forever except they repent, that their mind is 
carnal, enmity against God, and strongly inclining them 
to relish and pursue what he has forbidden, and to hate 
and neglect what he has required. 

It seems proper further to observe, that the enmity 
against God, which characterizes the unregenerate, by 
no means necessarily supposes their personal conscious- 
ness of it. The blindness, the infatuation, the delirium 
which sin occasions, often prevents a discovery of the 
predominant tendencies of the heart. Is thy servant a 
dog, that he should do this great thing ? While the 
carnal mind is the only impulse they obey, there is often 



THE UNRENEWED. 31 

no perception of the nature of the dominion under which 
they act, of the value and importance of the interests 
with which they are prompted to conflict, or of the dis- 
astrous end to which they are rapidly hastening. In 
following the perverse inclinations of the heart, their 
mind is so withdrawn from the most important views of 
their condition, relations, and destination, that to many 
it rarely occurs, how, in the secret debates and purpo- 
ses of their own bosoms, they are contending with the 
Almighty, and how, in the open pursuits of lile, they are 
assailing the very foundations of Jehovah's throne. 
But the great reason why not a few do not perceive 
their state of mind to be enmity against God, is, that 
they have false views of the divine character. They 
do not conceive of it as it is revealed in scripture. 
Their God is the God of nature, of poetry, of fiction. 
They think of him as a being of boundless wisdom, 
might, and benevolence ; and as such feel complacen- 
cy in his character, admire his works, and praise him 
for the gifts of his bounteous hand. His character, in 
their apprehensions, is divested of those features of sin- 
hating holiness and sin-punishing justice, with which it 
stands clothed in the bible. And they are conscious of 
no aversion to him ; because they view him as allowing 
them to pursue, with scarcely any abridgment of their 
gratifications, the ways of their own hearts ; as very 
merciful and indulgent to sinners, and as ready to give 
eternal life to all, but especially to themselves, however 
destitute of repentance, faith, or holiness. But to every 
such person Jehovah speaks in language of most affect- 
ing emphasis and appropriateness. These things thou 
hast done, and I kept silence. Thou thoughtest that I 
was altogether such an one as thyself- — but I will re- 
prove thee, and set them in order before thine eyes. 

From this explanation of what the scriptures teach 
us to understand by the carnal mind, and of the sense 
in which it is enmity against God, I proceed to exhibit 



32 CHARACTER OF 

more fully the nature of that enmity, by adverting to 
several particulars in which its existence is manifest. 

I. The enmity of the carnal mind exists against 
God, as he is presented in his law. If it were possible 
to separate, even in thought, the law of God, bearing, as 
it does, so distinctly, impressions of the most interesting 
and attractive features of his character, from Jehovah 
himself, it might be urged, that this enmity is not against 
the person of the Most High, but against the authorita- 
tive methods he employs to restrain man from doing 
what he delights to do, and to enforce his performance 
of acts to which he has a strong reluctance. But in 
reality such a distinction does not exist, and cannot be 
made. The Spirit of the Godhead breathes through 
this law. His character, his authority, his very throne 
is linked indissolubly with it. From these it emanated, 
and these are engaged to execute it. So that aversion 
to this, is enmity against him. This is rendered evi- 
dent by what follows immediately in connexion with 
the text, as explanatory of the enmity of the carnal mind. 
It is not subject to the law of God. Indeed, it is the 
impress of the divine holiness which it bears — it is the 
claim of God to the whole heart which it makes — it is 
the appalling sanctions of the divine authority with which 
it comes clothed — it is the threatening of Almighty 
wrath against obstinate transgressors, which it utters — 
it is these peculiarities which form the principal ground 
of the natural heart's repugnance to the law of God. 
And the reason why this dislike to the divine law, or 
rather to the Most High, as there exhibited, does not 
assume in every unregenerate person a form more prom- 
inent and practical, is, that these peculiarities are not 
clearly perceived. Let the carnally minded only see, 
as they may, and often do see, that in the law of God, 
his hand is directly restraining, correcting, and punish- 
ing them, when yielding to the native feelings of their 
heart, and they will need no proof, and those who are 
conversant with them will need no proof, that the car- 



THE UNRENEWED. 33 

nal mind is enmity against God. They will feel and 
evince a determined resistance of heart to a law r , which 
they affect or persuade themselves to believe, is so rig- 
id in its requirements and so severe in its penalties. 
They will feel that God is a hard, master in thus im- 
posing restraints on passions and appetites which seek 
gratification in sin, and in following such gratification 
with the infliction of sore and abiding evil. Nor will 
the feeling exist inactive in the breast. Cordial hatred 
of Him who thus seeks by the feway of motives to abridge 
their liberty of self-destruction, drives them often to 
dare the vengeance of his violated law. Why else are 
multitudes ruining their reputation, their happiness, and 
their souls, by obstinately persisting in the ways of trans- 
gression ? O, it is enmity against God which leads so 
many to profane his name, to desecrate his sacred day, 
and to treat with blasphemous contempt his holy word. 
It is enmity against God, which rears our theatres and 
other places of licentious dissipation. It is enmity 
against God, which fills the bosom of man with enmity 
against man, and the world with violence, and war, and 
woe. But when, through grace, the carnal mind is made 
spiritual, there exists no more enmity against the Holy 
One as he is exhibited in his law T . On the contrary, he 
comes to be contemplated there with great complacency 
and delight. To the regenerate mind the thought, that 
the divine Being should be any less holy, just, and 
spiritual in his requisitions, than his law exhibits him, 
would be ineffably distressing. J delight in the law of 
God after the inward man — / hate vain thoughts, but 
thy law do I love — How love I thy law, it is my medi- 
tation all the day. Such is the language of a mind 
that has ceased to be carnal. 

II. The enmity of the carnal mind exists against 
God, as he is presented in the economy of his govern- 
ment. There is scarcely any aspect, in which unre- 
newed men contemplate the Supreme Being with deep- 
er feelings of dislike, than as a sovereign. They fee] 



34 CHARACTER OF 

no objection to him as a being of boundless intelligence, 
wisdom, and goodness, exercising these attributes in the 
promotion of their happiness, and leaving them to seek 
it where their depraved inclinations lead. They are 
willing he should reign, provided his dominion does 
not interfere with the empire of their vitiated affections, 
and is regulated by those fundamental principles which 
they are pleased to prescribe. But they are not willing 
he should reign, if justice and judgment are the habita- 
tion of his throne. They are not willing that he should 
proceed in the administration of his infinite government, 
according to the counsel of his own will. Their hearts 
rise against that distinguishing feature in his perfect 
economy, which causes all things throughout his bound- 
less dominions to move onward to a most glorious re- 
sult, according to his good pleasure which he hath pur- 
posed in himself The carnal mind is always enmity 
against this essential feature in the divine government. 
There never was a man in an unrenewed state, who 
was cordially reconciled to that sovereign arrangement 
by which the God of heaven governs the moral uni- 
verse. By abusing the doctrine of the divine sover- 
eignty, and calling his determinate counsel and fore- 
knowledge, fatality, some have affected to be thus re- 
conciled ; but the heart in such cases, remains in a state 
of rebellion. There is no submission of the mind and 
will to the infinitely holy and perfect economy. There 
is no heart-felt rejoicing, that the Lord God omnipotent 
reigneth. This is eminently true in reference to that 
department of Jehovah's administration, which relates 
to the bestowment of special spiritual favors. In ap- 
pealing in this place to the experience of my impeni- 
tent hearers, for confirmation of this truth, I cannot be 
supposed to be influenced by a desire to give them pain 
or to make them sin, but rather to contribute to their 
escape from both. I appeal then to you, dear friends, 
who are evidently unrenewed in mind, if your hearts 
do not swell with emotions of strong aversion to God, 



THE UNRENEWED. 35 

when you think of this truth ? that he hath mercy on 
whom he will have mercy, and whom he will he harden- 
eih. Though the carnally minded perseveringly with- 
hold their affections from God, and are reluctant to 
have him reign in their own hearts ; they are still more 
averse to that discriminating interference of his grace, 
which leaves some as they choose to remain, while oth- 
ers are made vessels of mercy prepared unto glory. 
This aversion to the Most High in his character as a 
Sovereign Ruler, is not seldom excited in the minds of 
the unregenerate by those acts of his holy and righteous 
government, which affect their outward condition in the 
present world. It matters not that such acts are mer- 
cifully directed in relation to them, (and no direction 
could be otherwise which suffers their continuance in a 
world of hope.) It prevents not their dislike to the al- 
lotments of heaven, that they issue even in their greater 
temporal benefit. Their wishes are not answered, their 
schemes are frustrated, and their apparent interests for 
the present are left to suffer ; their enmity therefore 
arises against him who governs the allotments. Be- 
cause their own private and selfish ends are defeated, 
they indulge feelings, which, fully acted out, would strike 
at the very foundation of that throne, which sustains in- 
terests of more value than the created universe. The 
operation of this enmity is seen by the Searcher of 
hearts, and sometimes by those who cannot see the 
heart, when worldly losses, bereavements, and afflic- 
tions roll over rebellious man the waves of adversity. 
It is seen to lift him up to breast these waves with stern, 
but impotent resistance. The subject of this enmity, 
instead of throwing himself with feelings of helpless de- 
pendence on the Hand that measures out to him so ad- 
verse a destiny, throws himself into a posture of despe- 
rate effort to escape or brave the visitation of calamity. 
When almost melted by some stroke of severe bereave- 
ment, the actings of his heart towards God, are of a 
character indicative of increased measures of aversion. 



36 CHARACTER OF 

When outwardly destitute, desolate, and depressed, 
amidst circumstances alone fitted to teach his heart to 
pray, He to whom such an exercise can never be un- 
seasonably directed, perceives his heart to be rankling 
with feelings more nearly allied to cursing and bitter- 
ness. Nor does that part of the divine administration, 
which relates to the judgment of the great day and the 
retribution of eternity, fail to call forth the enmity of 
the wicked against the Ruler and Judge of the world. 
It does this now, and it w T ill do it forever. No carnal 
mind can think of the approaching day of final devel- 
opements and decisions, and of the subsequent endless 
ages of retribution, without feelings of dislike to Him 
who is to judge, and fix the everlasting destinies of men. 
They would not have a God so holy, so benign, just, 
and faithful, to rule over them. 

III. The enmity of the carnal mind exists against God 
as the Saviour of sinners. Of this truth there is evidence 
as clear, as the enmity is unreasonable, causeless, and 
criminal. The Saviour Jesus Christ, God manifest in 
the flesh, is the sole medium of the Divine communica- 
tions to man. In him God is seeking to reconcile this 
world of sinners to himself. He came into the world to 
save sinners. He is the only name given under heaven 
through which salvation can ever reach a transgressor 
of the divine law. In him the revelation of the ineffa- 
ble Jehovah, is so lovely, so full of grace and truth, 
so clothed with the mild and intelligible glories of puri- 
ty, innocence, meekness, and mercy, that it could hard- 
ly have entered into the conjecture of an angel's mind, 
how he has been regarded bv the race of man. Rea- 
son could not have inferred, fallen and polluted as is 
our species, that He whose character includes every ele- 
ment of moral beauty and excellence, and whose er- 
rand was so astonishingly kind and gracious, would be 
the object of the enmity of every human mind that is 
made acquainted with that character, and learns the 
story of his incarnation and sufferings. And yet, it 



THE UNRENEWED. 37 

must be said, such is the truth. Nor let it be supposed, 
that 1 infer this truth solely from the undeniable fact, 
that persons under the light of revelation, begin in their 
natural state, with one consent, to neglect the Saviour. 
They treat him with an indifference with which they 
never treat an earthly friend and benefactor. They 
comply with none of his requests. They neglect to at- 
tend to his communications. They place no confidence 
in his truth. They treat the most affecting expressions 
of his love with no corresponding emotions of love to 
him. They feel no gratitude for the innumerable un- 
deserved favors he bestows upon them — no, nor for an 
eternal weight of glory, which he has purchased for, and 
is waiting to give to them, the moment they are willing 
to receive it. Surely, they "treat no other friend so 
ill." But not to insist on the evidence of the carnal 
mind's enmity against the Saviour, derived from these 
facts, we have greater witnesses than these, in the ex- 
press declarations of the Saviour himself, in the histo- 
ry of the unregenerate, in the humble acknowledge- 
ment of all who have become new creatures in Jesus 
Christ, and in the reluctant confessions of not a few, 
while in the gall of bitterness and bonds of iniquity. 
Ye have both seen and hated, both me and my Father. 
If ye were of God, ye would love me ; but ye seek to kill 
me, because my word hath no place in you. Let us 
alone, is the language of the carnal mind, Let us alone, 
what have we to do with thee, thou holy One of God. 
Away with him, away with him, crucify him — crucify 
him. On this subject, were the whole company of the 
redeemed to utter their views of their temper of mind 
towards the Redeemer, while they were unrenewed, 
we should hear a humble unanimous acknowledgement, 
that they were enemies to him in their mind. They 
would speak of their aversion to his person, of their re- 
sistance of his grace, of their opposition to the way of 
salvation through him, and of their frequent determina- 
i tion of heart to make war against hi^ cause and king- 

4 



38 CHARACTER OF 

dom. You would hear the acknowledgement of many 
mingled throughout the mighty throng, that their oppo- 
sition to Immanuel, often led them to deny his Godhead, 
to strip him of his divine attributes, and to count his 
blood a vain oblation. But it cannot be necessary to 
accumulate evidence of the painful truth. I am persua- 
ded, there are those present conscious of an aversion of 
heart to the Saviour. Why else do so many reject him ? 
When he is proposed to them — when he offers himself 
to them in the character of a Redeemer, Mediator, a 
mighty Deliverer from sin, and guilt, and woe, where- 
fore is he despised and rejected ? Why is this so uni- 
versally the treatment, he receives from those, whom he 
came to seek and to save ? It is not through ignorance. 
It is not because they are impelled to this by a blind 
and relentless fatality. No ! the only reason is, they 
dislike his character — they disrelish his doctrines, they 
are dissatisfied with the conditions on which he offers 
to save them. They are averse to bear his yoke. They 
cannot think of engaging in the spiritual services of his 
religion. They feel determined at present not to cher- 
ish his spirit— a spirit of meekness, gentleness, humility, 
patience, and forbearance — an indifference to the in- 
terests, pomps, and vanities of the world, and a relish 
for holy society, spiritual conversation, and heavenly 
employments. O, the predominant temper of the nat- 
ural heart, is enmity against God, as a Lawgiver, a 
Sovereign, and a Saviour. 

From this view of the subject, we may be able to learn 
something of the nature and extent of human depravity. 
It is not barely a destitution of holiness. Many beings 
have no holiness, who yet have no sin. It denotes the 
inherent vitiation of the moral faculties of the mind, and 
the strong tendency and incessant action of these fac- 
ulties in opposition to God and holiness. It is not a 
state of slumbering depravation, adapted to a perverse 
action, but of sleepless, restless, and untiring sinful 
working of the heart. The carnal mind or human de- 



THE UNRENEWED. 39 

pravity, is not simply an enemy of God, but is enmity 
itself. An enemy may be reconciled to God, but the 
carnal mind — the enmity of it against God, cannot be 
reconciled. It must be slain — it must be crucified — it 
must be removed. 

2. The subject is suited to give us correct views of 
the nature of conviction of sin. It implies a deep dis- 
covery of the greatness, the universality, and the guilti- 
ness of sin. It involves a discovery of a holy, just, sov- 
ereign, and gracious God, as the one against whom sin 
is committed. Against thee, thee only, have I sinned. 
It includes a feeling of strong persuasion, that God is 
not obligated to pardon sin, and that he would be entire- 
ly holy and good, should he never pardon a convicted 
sinner. 

3. We may learn, from what has been said, the na- 
ture of regeneration. It is a new creation. It is not 
an outward reformation. It is not the change of notions 
and views and creeds. It is becoming a new creation 
in Christ Jesus. It is having the carnal mind effectual- 
ly removed, so that it ceases to have an uncontrolled do- 
minion over the soul. It is. the passing from a state of 
cordial enmity, to a state of cordial friendship. 

4. We see its necessity. Except a man be born 
again he cannot see the kingdom of God. Except this 
enmity, which exists in every natural heart against God 5 
be removed, there can be no enjoyment of God — no 
heaven for sinful man. It is complacency in the law, 
the sovereignty, and the salvation of God, which con- 
stitutes so much of heaven's blessedness. Place the 
carnally minded there, who hates the law of God, his 
government, and his salvation, and could it be heaven 
to him ? Consider this, all ye, who dare suffer your 
hearts to oppose Jehovah. Think of your guilty, de- 
praved, ruined, and most alarming state. Seek the 
Lord. Submit to the Lord, Repent. Believe, Be 
converted , 



SlSRKIO'Ttf III. 



Results and Uses of the Fact of Human Depravity. 
ROMANS VIII. 7. 

THE CARNAL MIND IS ENMITY AGAINST GOD. 

In recently illustrating the general sentiment deduced 
from this passage, a series of observations were sugges- 
ted, a few of which only, could be barely glanced at in 
the limits of a single discourse. These suggestions, 
though necessarily omitted at the time, are intimately 
connected with the subject, and are regarded of suffi- 
cient importance in themselves, to be introduced in a 
separate and more extended form. There is likewise, 
so much in them that belongs to the train of thought, to 
which our attention was directed on the last Sabbath, 
no less than to the original subject, that some special 
reason seems to exist, why they should be brought be- 
fore our minds at the present time. 

The meaning of the text is, that the natural or unre- 
newed mind of man is enmity against god. The 
truth of this sentiment, is alike evident from the various 
express declarations of scripture, and from the whole 
history of our species. But though enmity against 
God, the unrenewed mind may, nevertheless, not be 
wholly devoid of qualities, in themselves, estimable and 
desirable. The natural and social affections may ex- 
ist, and create many lovely features in such a mind. 
Nor has every such mind acquired the same measure of 



RESULTS AND USES OF THE FACT, &C. 4t 

that temper, which constitutes its enmity against God. 
This temper, too, is cherished in its most determined 
and vigorous actings by many, whom it would be in vain 
to attempt to convince of the fact. One part of its na- 
ture is, to render its subjects thus insensible to its strong 
and growing influence. It prevents the mind from dis- 
covering its own moral bias. It prevents a full and just 
apprehension of the divine character. But though such 
a mind is often possessed of qualities, which we may 
innocently desire, and esteem, wherever they exist ; 
and though it is generally unconscious of its own state 
in relation to the divine character ; yet He, who sees the 
heart, and all, whom he has enabled to see their own 
inherent tendency of mind, bear witness to the interest- 
ing truth of the text. 

This enmity exists against God, as he is exhibited 
in his law. It is averse to the entire image of the di- 
vine character stamped on that law. It is opposed to 
the pure Spirit of Jehovah, that breathes through his 
law. It is evinced in acts of undisguised and unregret- 
ted disobedience to the whole range of its spiritual de- 
mands. It exists against God, as the moral Ruler of 
the universe. It rises up in stern and desperate hostility 
to the allotments of his providence. But it rages with 
most violence against the sovereign and distinguishing 
features in the dispensations of his grace. Finally. It 
exists against God as the Saviour of men. It scorns the 
mystery of Godliness — God manifest in the flesh. Every 
natural man is prepared to despise and reject the in- 
carnate Saviour. Some deny his true divinity and re- 
gard his blood of no saving efficacy. Others, though 
affecting to believe in the great truth of his deity and 
humanity united, will not submit to his authority, and 
most obstinately decline obedience to his easy require- 
ments. They hate his pure doctrines. They loathe 
the very idea of engaging in the spiritual services of his 
religion. 

Such, my hearers will perceive, is a hasty glance at 

4* 



42 RESULTS AND USES OF THE FACT 

some of the more prominent thoughts, heretofore intro- 
duced, in illustrating the principal sentiment of the text. 
Several reflections suggested by a review of the subject, 
one or two of which were formerly hinted at, will now, 
for a short time, invite our attention. 

I. The subject presents an interesting and instruc- 
tive view of the nature and degree of man's alienation 
from God. There is nothing, by which we can rightly 
estimate moral or spiritual delinquencies in creatures, 
but by reference to the character of God, as disclosed 
in his law, government, and gracious dispensations. 
Jehovah thus revealed, is the only perfect standard of 
spiritual purity. By contemplating him, as he unfolds 
his character to the dimmed vision of fallen creatures 
in the scenes of his visible works, men may discern lit- 
tle or nothing, that would serve to show them how far 
they have departed from him, or how profound are the 
depths of pollution into which they are sunk. Accord- 
ingly it is found, that they, who read his character 
only as they are able to discern it written on the fabric 
of material things, whether they be those, who are ne- 
cessarily deprived of any other revelation, or those, who 
wilfully refuse to seek the deep spiritual illumination 
promised to the humble student of the book of God, 
are without any adequate conception of their amazing 
deficiencies of character, and of their positive enmity 
against the holy One. Indeed, against the God 
whom they apprehend — the God of nature, of reason, 
of fancy, or of fiction, their mind is not enmity. Nay, 
it delights in the being which its own vitiated powers 
create. But let, for once, the true God, the God of 
holiness, of justice, and salvation, break in upon the 
discoveries of the unrenewed mind, and the case be- 
comes very different. All indifference, all complacen- 
cy ceases. It no longer retains its negative or equivo- 
cal posture. It retires from the ground of an assumed 
neutrality, where it had been amusing itself in " looking 
through nature up to nature's God." It finds itself ur- 



OF HUMAN DEPRAVITY. 43 

ged by its inherent tendencies, now waked up to action, 
to advance to a most unequal contest, and to rush upon 
the thick bosses of the Almighty's buckler. The un- 
renewed mind, thus forced to a disclosure of itself, thus 
made to feel and to show to others its innate temper, 
lets us into some right discoveries of what human de- 
pravity is. It is not a negative existence. It is not 
simply a destitution of holiness. It is not merely the 
being without God, but the being against God. It is 
the entire vitiation of the moral powers of the mind, and 
the strong tendency and incessant activity of these pow- 
ers in opposition to the Most High. It does not con- 
sist in a state of slumbering depravation of the mind, 
only adapted to a perverse action, but of unsleeping, 
restless, and untiring sinful workings of the heart. It 
does not consist in a heart, resembling the state of one 
from whom the unclean spirit has, for a season, depart- 
ed, only to return with accumulated abominations ; but 
of a heart filled with all unrighteousness, wickedness, 
covetousness, maliciousness, envy, murder, deceit, and 
malignity. 

Human depravity is seen, in the light of this subject, 
to be something very different from human infirmity. 
No one ever thought it an innocent defect — a harmless 
infirmity in the man, who, from his natural temper, 
should be perpetually manifesting a causeless bitterness, 
and enmity towards the most virtuous and benevolent 
of his fellow creatures. No one ever yet supposed a 
man the less culpable, because he evidently yielded to 
a very strong inclination to abuse his fellows. Is the 
man, who hates and violates the wholesome laws, and 
bids defiance to the rightful authorities of a community, 
deemed justly exempt from legal penalties, on account 
of the active force of his long cherished vicious habits 
and passions ? Rather, does not this circumstance in 
his case, call for increased rigor in the infliction of re- 
tributive justice ? Now, who does not see that human 
depravity, w T hich consists not barely in a neglect to love 



44 RESULTS AND USES OF THE FACT 

God, but in a settled hatred of his character — not in 
the bare omission of obedience to his commands, but 
in determined opposition to his great scheme of mercy 
and grace, is not an unavoidable, and, therefore, harm- 
less infirmity — is not a misfortune, but a crime ? Its 
very essence is enmity against God. No one is obli- 
ged by the necessity of his nature, to cherish such en- 
mity. Its exercise is a voluntary act of the mind. 
And instead of being obliged to put forth such an act, 
every moral creature throughout the universe of God, 
is pressed, by every consideration arising from his con- 
dition and relations — his duty and his interests, to love 
him supremely and forever. He requires this. This 
he infinitely deserves. Obedience to the requirement, 
makes and perpetuates heavenly felicity. Ask those 
seraphim who " adore and burn" with holy love, if it 
would be guiltless in them to begin to burn with emo- 
tions of enmity against Him, whose presence is for- 
ever to fill their angel minds with new accessions of 
bliss and glory. Ask the whole " sacramental host of 
God's elect" on earth, if such enmity is only an infir- 
mity to be pitied rather than punished ; and they will 
point you, for an answer, to those chains of darkness 
in which lie those seraph minds, which kept not their 
first estate. O, there is tremendous guilt in the cause- 
less enmity of creatures against the adorable Jehovah. 
The subject brings into view the entireness of human 
depravity. Indeed, from the known properties of mind, 
the inference might with much safety be drawn, that a 
state of the affections, which involves the exercise of 
enmity against God, must imply an utter incapacity 
for exercising the opposite emotions of love. With his 
existing temper, " Satan cannot love" God. Nor can 
the regenerate mind cherish feelings of aversion towards 
him. His seed remaineth in him, and he cannot com- 
mit such a sin. He may be left to sin against, but he 
will be kept from indulging feelings of enmity against 
God. The language of the text clearly marks the dis- 



OF HUMAN DEPRAVITY. 45 

tinction between occasional and unallowed sins, and 
habitual and cherished sins — between unindulged emo- 
tions of unreconciliation, and feelings of determined op- 
position to God. It asserts, that the unrenewed mind 
sins not merely occasionally and contrary to its better 
purposes, but constantly and without reluctance — is not 
simply, at times of peculiar temptation, thrown into an 
attitude of resistance to the divine allotments, but is un- 
interruptedly, unhesitatingly, and entirely in its temper, 
taste, and aims, opposed to the God of the bible. It is 
enmity against Him. It is made up of views, and 
feelings, and purposes, which are all stamped with this 
single unvarying characteristic of enmity against Him, 
who is emphatically love. 

Such, dear friends, is the mind which is in you, and 
me, and every other child of Adam, unless through 
special mercy it has been changed by renewing grace. 
It is a painful subject to dwell upon ; and did I not 
know it to be a truth most interesting to you as well as 
to myself — a truth which you must feel, before you can 
feel the joys of pardoned sinners, I should never give 
you pain, disturb your peace, or awaken your feelings 
of disgust by introducing it to your notice. Not one of 
you will blame me for it at another day ! 

II. The subject presents some views, which may be of 
service in distinguishing between those convictions of 
sin, which are produced by the Spirit of truth and the 
workings of natural conscience. It is one thing to be 
alarmed from apprehension of danger, and another to 
be deeply convinced of the reality and nature of the 
evil which hangs over the unconverted. The alarms 
of conscience are commonly little more than some tran- 
sient disturbance of the mind, apart from any very dis- 
tinct perception of the cause. Dangers in dim and 
shadowy forms float before the mind, and its vague and 
broken visions destroy its quiet. But convictions of 
sin by the Holy Spirit, being effected through the in- 
strumentality of divine truth, are always connected with 



46 RESULTS AND USES OF THE FACT 

such views of sin, as are alone to be gained by the strong 
light, which divine truth thus attended, pours in upon 
the mind. It is by the word of God, that the convicted 
sinner learns the nature and strength of his inherent de- 
pravity, and the greatness, the universality, and the 
guiltiness of his sins. He detects them in forms and 
numbers without number, where an awakened con- 
science would only gain some faint glimpses of moral 
delinquencies, foreboding that all is not right, and that 
dangers thicken along the impenetrable obscurity of the 
future. Though the Spirit of truth adapts his revela- 
tions of the sin, and guilt, and peril of the awakened, to 
their power of sustaining the oppressive view, and may 
never give a full developement of their condition to their 
minds, yet his disclosures are just and accurate. Though 
they are mercifully relieved from seeing all, yet they 
are, from time to time, brought to survey such partial 
exhibitions, as may teach them how unable they are to 
bear a view of the whole. By the law is the knowledge 
of sin. They are brought to view themselves in that 
mirror — to measure themselves by that standard — to 
see how the number and magnitude of their sins mul- 
tiply and swell, as the commandment comes in the length 
and breadth of its exceeding strictness and spirituality. 
They see, how sins and guilt have been accumulated 
in cherishing a mind, which is now perceived to have 
been enmity against God. Now, such enmity ap- 
pears in each act of disobedience to a law thus holy, 
just, and good. Now, they are enabled to perceive, 
that but for such enmity, they would have continually 
delighted in this law after the inward man. In a word, 
they are convinced of having exercised this terrible 
enmity against God, in every attitude, in which he 
has been pleased to reveal himself to the guilty chil- 
dren of men. Against thee, thee only have I sinned, is 
the instinctive acknowledgement of those, whom the 
Spirit of God effectually convinces of sin. Among the 
sins, which will rise up to the view of their minds, will 



OF HUMAN DEPRAVITY. 47 

be many unkind and unjust speeches, actions, and feel- 
ings towards their fellow men ; but they now see that 
the Most High is chiefly respected in them all, and that 
enmity against Him constitutes the cause and essence 
of every sin. To be opposed in heart to him, appears 
so great an evil, that if it were not seen to be the source 
and spring of every offence against man, it would ab- 
sorb, in the minds of the truly convicted, all their feel- 
ings of solicitude, and leave them only anxious to have 
their enmity wholly slain, and their mountain of sins re- 
moved. And yet such is their sense of the utter un- 
reasonableness of their enmity against God, that they 
have a most full conviction, that he would be entirely 
just and good, were he to leave them to the inevitable 
consequence of such an unprovoked and causeless hos- 
tility to his law, government, and salvation. 

Convictions, created by the Holy Spirit through the 
instrumentality of divine truth, are convictions no less 
of the misery than of the greatness and guilt of sin. O 
to feel the long indulged, and long strengthened, de- 
praved inclinations now refusing to heed the dictates of 
reason, impelling them onward, in more and more mark- 
ed acts of cordial enmity against Him, who is omni- 
potent, and just, and holy — O, to feel that they have 
been so long rivetting the chains of their spiritual bon- 
dage, that none but the Almighty One, whom they have 
been binding themselves to oppose, can break the cruel 
fetters and set them free — Ah ! yes, and to feel some- 
thing in their hearts, that will resist their application to 
him for help, though everlasting ruin must abide them, 
unless such help is granted — this, this is a misery, near- 
ly allied to that which can never know the alleviation of 
one smiling hope ! 

It is a distressing consideration, and I may be thought 
to expose some of my hearers to needless pain, by sug- 
gesting it, that many are entertaining favorable views 
of their religious condition, who know nothing of such 
convictions as have now been described. But it must 



48 RESULTS AND USES OF THE FACT 

not be disguised, though a few may be unnecessarily 
distressed by the remark, that the fair fabric of the re- 
ligious hopes of many nominal christians, has arisen from 
a foundation, that was not laid in the deep work of 
thorough conviction. A slight uneasiness, created by 
the feeble actings of an excited conscience, succeeded 
by the calm of a conscience pacified by outward duties, 
has become the foundation on which the religious hopes 
of men are not seldom built. The great defects in such 
foundation, consist in their necessarily not being laid in 
the spirit of deep humiliation before God. The work 
of conviction not having laid low every thing, that, ex- 
alts itself against God, there can, in such cases, be no 
strong impression of their need, and no affecting view 
of their unworthiness, of the sovereign mercy of God 
in Christ Jesus their Lord. Their wound was not the 
deeply inflicted wound of the sword of the Spirit, and it 
became healed without an application to the alone ade- 
quate Physician of the wounded spirit. In instances of 
this kind, what was wanting in the beginning of their re- 
ligious course, continues a marked defect throughout. 
They obtain no experience, which enables them to 
make it out to the full satisfaction of their own minds, 
(plain as it is stated in the word of God,) that the car- 
nal mind is enmity against him. Alike indistinct and 
vague are their apprehensions of all those doctrines of 
the gospel, which are involved in christian experience. 
They know scarcely nothing at all of the true reason, 
why it is, that persons avowedly of the same faith with 
themselves, have such implicit and unshaken belief in 
the leading truths of the bible. While they coldly as- 
sent to them, as matters of speculation, others feel them 
as matters of experience. While too, others are mourn- 
ing over, and contending against the still unsubdued 
sins of the heart, they are not in trouble on this account, 
have no painful changes in their religious career, and 
are surprised, that so much should be said of the spirit- 
ual conflicts of believers. Now, let it be said in faith- 



OF HUMAN DEPRAVITY. 49 

fulness, whoever may be offended, or whoever may be 
brought into distress by it, that although the deepest 
agony of conviction, is not conversion, yet true conver- 
sion cannot take place without an affecting discovery of 
the greatness, and the guilt, and peril of the sins of an 
unconverted state. The change from a carnal to a 
spiritual mind, must involve this discovery ; and they 
who have not yet had it, are in darkness, ignorance, 
guilt, and ruin. Who can be a penitent, that has not 
been a convicted sinner ? Who can sorrow for sins, 
that he never saw ? Who can have a hope, that never 
felt despair? Who can be cheered with even distant 
glimpses and visions of celestial glory, that was never 
brought to behold 

-•" the opening gates of hell 



"With endless pains and sorrows there?" 

O, ye strangers to convictions, and yet cherishers of 
hopes, remember that such hopes may be cherished, 
until you reach that world where convictions of sin, and 
guilt, and misery have no end ! Open your eyes. Be- 
hold your carnal mind as its dreadful features are re- 
vealed in the light of divine truth. See how unreason- 
ably and desperately you are contending with the Al- 
mighty. Feel how full of enmity against God is your 
heart. Consider — realize, that your heart is bitterness 
itself against Him whose presence alone can make heav- 
en ! O, bring that heart to be broken, melted, chang- 
ed, sanctified, by the grace of that Holy Spirit, whose 
heavenly breathings give you some impression of what 
your state now is, and what it must forever be, unless 
that heart is repentant, and your temper of mind wholly 
changed ! 

III. It is in the light of this subject, that we are 
able to see most clearly the cause, the nature, and the 
necessity of regeneration. All nominal christians, what- 
ever be their views of the native human character, con- 
sider regeneration, in some sense, important. Such as 
entertain favorable views of that character, though they 
5 



00 RESULTS AND USES OF THE FACT 

professedly regard it needful to be born again, view 
the change as consisting in the gradual cultivation and 
improvement of the social, moral, and intellectual hab- 
its of the mind. Of course, with them it is very much 
a work of their own, and may be done or left undone, 
without any very widely different results in the end. 
But this subject gives a materially different view of the 
case. The mind of man before regeneration, needs 
something more than the progressive improvement of 
its native qualities, in order to be prepared to enjoy a 
sinless state. It is enmity against infinite purity. Now 
this enmity will not remove itself. The mind left to 
itself, will never begin to cherish sentiments of affec- 
tionate attachment to the Beini, whom it instinctively 
dislikes and resists. Whether, therefore, we consider 
the greatness of the work, or the extremely vitiated state 
of the heart, which is the subject of regeneration, it 
must be seen to be wholly of Gjd. He alone, who is 
the great object of the sinner's enmity, can remove it. 
This seems clear from the very nature of the case. It 
is not an outward reformation, but an inward transfor- 
mation. It is not the bare making the outside clean. 
but a new creation of the whole moral nature unto good 
works. Who but the Almighty can effect this ? Ac- 
cordingly his own word declares, that his children are 
born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of 
the will of man, but of God. They are his workman- 
ship, created in Christ Jesus unto go< d works, which he 
hath before ordained, that they should walk in them, 
According to his mercy, he saves them by the washing of 
regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Spirit. With- 
out his signal intervention, vain would be the attempt of 
all created energies to accomplish the work of renewing 
unto holiness one carnal mind. 

From what has been seen of the nature of that mind, 
which needs to be the subject of this mighty operation 
of renewing mercy, we may learn something of the na- 
ture of the mind, which has been made the subject of 



OF HUMAN DEPRAVITY. 5 1 

It. The change wrought, does not consist in the mere 
substitution of one set of notions and creeds for anoth- 
er. If it did, there would be nothing marvellous in the 
achievement of such a change. Nothing is more easy s 
than to change the speculative views of men. To con- 
vert them from one sect of religionists to another. A 
proud man of the world, can readily be made a spiritually 
proud professor of religion. A man of naturally vio- 
lent temper, can easily be converted into a fiery and 
rash zealot of some religious party. The gay triflers 
that move in the world of fashion, can, without any dif- 
ficulty and with scarcely any change, be made the busy 
retailers of religious gossip — the busy actors in the world 
of religious romance and dissipation. And such con- 
versions, it is much to be feared, are remarkably nu- 
merous in this age of religious profession, of religious 
talk, and of religious controversy. But ah ! this is not 
religion — this is not to be born oj God — this is not to be 
a new creature in Jesus Christ. To make the car- 
nal mind to love God — to love his law, though it con- 
demn him — to love his holy sovereignty — to love his 
methods of saving mercy — to bring such a mind to loathe 
itself, to hate sin, to tread the world under foot, to pant 
after God, to aspire after nothing but the mind that was 
in Christ, with man this is verily impossible — and yet 
nothing short of this is regeneration. And yet except a 
man be thus born again, he cannot see the kingdom of 
God. Except all this takes place, the mind remains 
carnal. And can an enemy — -nay, can enmity itself 
against God enjoy him ? Whatever men experience — 
whatever they do short of this, they make no approach- 
es towards a meetness for heaven. Sinners must be 
born again, or they must evermore experience what it 
is to be lost. 

IV. The subject suggests the consideration of duties. 
Placed in a world of immortals, whose immortal pow- 
ers are enmity against God, what duties do the re- 
generate owe po their perishing fellow sinners ? They 



52 RESULTS AND USES OF THE FACT 

cannot change their hearts. They cannot extinguish 
the feelings of enmity that reign there. They cannot 
bring a clean thing out of an unclean. But there are 
some things which they can do, as co-workers with God 
in this mighty achievement. They can prepare the way 
of the Lord. They can remove impediments, existing 
in themselves, to the conversion of the carnally minded. 
They can aid in the preparatory measures to this great 
work. They can show forth, in their spirit and exam- 
ple, the genuine nature of religion. They can proclaim 
abroad, by the eloquence of a holy life, the true gospel 
of salvation. They can preach the truth as it is in Je- 
sus, in the mute and silent rhetoric of a meek and quiet 
spirit. O, they can do yet more ; they can warn and 
entreat — and persuade the wicked. They can urge 
them to search the scriptures — to listen to the preach- 
ed word — to bend their stubborn knees — to bow their 
stubborn hearts in prayer. And they can do yet more. 
They can pray. 

Ye children of God, what say ye to these things ? 
You love the Lord. You behold his unspeakable love- 
liness. You see how infinitely deserving he is of the 
love of all created minds. You feel the blessedness of 
his love. You expect to enjoy its increasing measures 
forever. You feel for sinners perishing in their enmity. 
I know your hearts sometimes bleed for them. I know 
you long at times to bring them to the Saviour that they 
may be cured ; that they may see his beauty, and feast 
on the provisions of his love. And would you do this ? 
Then let your hearts burn within you in constant com- 
munion with Christ, until the flame of your fervent 
charity shall blaze forth, and allure sinners to him. O, 
if you have any sensibility to the value of spiritual bless- 
ings ; if you have any bowels of christian compassion, 
you will do all you can, to save the perishing by pulling 
them out of the fire ! 

And is there no duty for you, ye perishing ones ? 
Enemies to God, must it not be your duty to be recon- 



OF HUMAN DEPRAVITY. 53 

ciled to him ? Is it not your present duty to become 
his cordial friends ? Rebels against his government, and 
despisers of his grace, is it not your present duty to ex- 
ercise ingenuous sorrow and deep repentance ? Since 
you have lived up to this hour at enmity against God 
your Saviour, ought you not this hour to begin to love 
him, trust in him, obey and serve him ? O, this is the 
duty of the lost spirits in the world of despair. And it 
is your duty. Ah ! it is more, it is your interest, it is 
your happiness, it is your salvation. Until you do this 
you cannot be saved. So long as you cherish this car- 
nal mind, you cherish the very elements of perdition in 
your bosoms. It is not possible for God to save you in 
your existing state. O, you must repent — You must 
believe — You must love God, or heaven can never be 
yours. 



SERMON IV 



There is no Peace to the Wicked. 



ISAIAH LVII. 2 0, 21. 

THE WICKED ARE LIKE THE TROUBLED SEA, WHEN IT CANNOT 
REST, WHOSE WATERS CAST DP MIRE AND DIRT. THERE IS 
NO PEACE, SAITH MY GOD, TO THE WICKED. 



The distinction between the righteous and the wick- 
ed, is not more clearly asserted in the volume of inspi- 
ration, than it is made to appear in their respective ex- 
isting conditions. This economy in the divine admin- 
istration, is marked with his own peculiar wisdom and 
benevolence. Consistency and uniformity might per- 
vade all the diversified arrangements of his government 
of the world, and yet not stand out so conspicuously as 
to meet the notice of all. The language of his provi- 
dence and of his word, might be entirely harmonious, 
and yet to minds like ours, so liable to misinterpret 
both, there might appear a very palpable contradiction 
between them. So that without the actual existence 
of the remotest occasion for it, we might be perplexed, 
embarrassed, and distressed, in witnessing before our 
eyes, events and circumstances apparently at variance 
with the plain statements of scripture. But we are re- 
lieved from all painful embarrassments of this nature. 
God never appears to contradict, by what is taking place 
around us, what he has written on the pages of the bi- 
ble. By neglecting this light, and endeavoring to as- 



THERE IS NO PEACE TO THE WICKED. 55 

certain the character and mind of the Holy One by the 
light of nature, men have become involved in perplex- 
ing difficulties at once. They have been stumbled at 
every step in discovering some imagined anomaly in 
the divine government — something contrary to their pre- 
vious notions of his character — something which almost 
drove them to the gloomy refuge of atheism. Through 
this neglect, even good men, from partial and mistaken 
views, have scarcely escaped falling. Their feet have 
been almost gone — their steps have well nigh slipped. 
Their embarrassment has generally arisen from contem- 
plating the apparently felicitous lot of the wicked. But, 
their difficulty has all vanished, the moment they have 
gone to the bible. There they have understood, not 
only their end, but their present state. There they have 
learned, that, however prosperous, cheerful, gay, and 
happy, the wicked may seem, they are nevertheless, like 
the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters cast 
up mire and dirt. There too, it has been found out, 
that, though they may speak peace to themselves, and 
declare of themselves, that they enjoy peace, yet as 
God is true, there is no peace to the wicked. 

The text I have thus introduced, will lead me to 
consider, 

I. The fact, that the wicked are strangers to true 
peace. 

II. The reasons why they are so. And 

III. To notice more particularly their condition as 
indicated by the figure in the text. 

I. I am to consider the fact, that the wicked are 
strangers to real peace. It is proper here to observe, 
that in the scriptures the term wicked is not applied 
exclusively to the openly flagitious and abandoned. All 
are wicked, in the sense invariably attached to the word 
throughout the bible, who are not righteous — who are 
not spiritual believers — who are not renewed in the pre- 
vailing habits and taste of the mind. A righteous per- 
son may conduct wickedly, and a wicked person may 



56 THERE IS NO PEACE 

do many things bearing an external conformity to a 
righteous rule, and yet the one is a new creature, alive 
to God, the other is dead in trespasses and sins. 

Allow me to observe likewise, in this place, that 
when the scriptures pronounce the wicked strangers to 
peace, it is not intended that they never have a state of 
mind, which they regard as yielding them slight and 
transient emotions of peace. They have something, 
which may be called composure or peace of mind. 
Some are constitutionally placid. Their thoughts and 
feelings flow in an even current. They are not suscep- 
tible of high excitement, or strong emotions of any kind. 
This sluggish tide of feelings resembles peace, is some- 
times mistaken for it, and called by the name. Others, 
by long habits of sin, by withstanding the peculiar mo- 
tives of religion, and resisting the convictions of a gra- 
cious Spirit, so deaden their original sensibilities as to 
remain unmoved and undisturbed by considerations, 
which otherwise would put an end to every thing, that 
might be mistaken for rest or peace. Another class^ 
who flatter themselves that they have peace though they 
walk in the imagination of their own hearts, derive it 
from a view of their attention to many of the relative 
and social duties of life, and of their exemption from 
many of the prevailing sins and vices of mankind. This 
often pacifies conscience, calms rising fears, and quells 
those alarms, which in spite of all their exterior piety, 
will, at times, awaken troublous commotions in the 
mind. Thus I would not deny, for it is not denied in 
the scriptures of truth, that persons belonging to either 
of these classes of the wicked, may occasionally expe- 
rience intervals of quietude and serenity of mind, which, 
because their experience reaches no farther, they may 
suppose to be true spiritual peace, or the peace of God 
which passeth understanding. But the number of those 
to whom this concession is made, has always been ex- 
ceedingly small. So that, were the peace they enjoy 
less decidedly spurious — were it any thing real, sub- 



TO THE WICKED. 57 

stantial, satisfying, lasting, it would scarcely furnish a 
reason why the declaration in the text should be less 
universal. If one in ten thousand, or in a thousand 
were clearly an exception, it would still remain a gen- 
eral truth, and might without any danger of misleading 
mankind, be declared, that there is no peace to the 
wicked. This He, who has perfectly known the state 
of every mind, that has ever had an existence in our 
world, has declared. And a single declaration of his, 
stamps it with the authority of eternal truth. This 
makes it certain, that although there is sometimes a 
seeming tranquillity, there is nothing like real peace. 
This settles the point, that, while constitutional gentle- 
ness, or acquired obduracy, or self complacency, wears 
the aspect of inward serenity, there is concealed beneath 
a fictitious guise, a state of turbulency and restlessness. 
And where is any authority for an opposite sentiment ? 
The bible, indeed, speaks of a certain class of men who 
call the wicked happy, and say peace, peace to them, 
when there is no peace. But look through this volume, 
and point me to a single passage, which taken in its 
proper connexion, represents the existing condition of 
the wicked as happy or desirable, and I will acknowl- 
edge that false prophets may be the preachers of truth 
and righteousness. On the contrary, who can repeat, 
Or enumerate those texts, which give a most fearful ac- 
count of the sinner's wretchedness in the present life ? 
He travails in pain all his days. A dreadful sound is in 
his ears. Trouble and anguish make him afraid. De- 
struction and misery are in his path, and the way of 
peace he knows not. What especially contributes to 
the existing unhappiness of the wicked, is the connex- 
ion of their present state and character with their future 
destiny. The expectation of the wicked shall perish. 
When the wicked spring as the grass, and all the work- 
ers of iniquity do flourish, it is that they shall be des- 
troyed forever. The wicked are reserved for the day 
of destruction. Many sorrows shall be to the wicked. 



58 THERE IS NO PEACE 

Woe unto the wicked, it shall he ill with them. They 
shall be driven away in their wickedness. They shall 
he turned into hell. Such is a specimen of the lan- 
guage, in which the word of God declares the fact I am 
considering. Nor does it appear any less certain and 
unquestionable in the life and conduct of the wicked, 
whose history is given on these pages. Run through 
the bible, with a special view to the degree of confirma- 
tion this fact receives from an authentic and infallible 
record of the state and character of numerous individu- 
als, who lived during a period of more than three thou- 
sand years. Mark the way which the wicked have 
trodden. It has often been the way of wealth and lux- 
ury, of learning and refinement, of pomp and power, 
but it has never been the way of peace. Not to speak 
of the condition of the whole heathen world through 
this long interval — to say nothing of the cloud of sin, of 
ignorance, and of wretchedness, that shrouded, in mid- 
night blackness, so wide an extent of earth's population, 
and poured its contents of woe into every heart of the 
mighty multitude — withdrawing our observation wholly 
from this portion of our race, and noticing those only 
who lived beneath the light, and shared the indirect 
benefits of the true religion, and where can be found 
an individual, in all that catalogue of the ungodly recor- 
ded by the pen of inspiration, who was not as truly mis- 
erable, as he was undeniably an enemy to God by wick- 
ed works ? Many of them possessed in a large .meas- 
ure, whatever this world has to contribute to the satis- 
faction and quiet of the mind, and yet they were ever 
restless and unsatisfied. 

To confirm still farther the truth of this fact, I might 
go on to adduce the testimony of the truly pious in every 
age. All such have been unregenerate, and experien- 
ced the condition of those who are unreconciled to God. 
And who needs be told what their language has been 
on this point ? One and all of them bear witness that, 
to be unrenewed in mind, is to be a stranger to peace. 



TO THE WICKED. 59 

But it seems to me almost impious to accumulate proofs 
of a fact, which is so distinctly asserted by the God of 
truth ; and especially, do 1 deem it unnecessary, since 
those of my hearers, for whose conviction they are in- 
troduced, were they to utter the undisguised feelings of 
their heart, would themselves testify, that they have, in 
their own habitual experience, a most painful confirma- 
tion of the fact. 

II. Why are the wicked strangers to real peace of 
mind*? They are such from the constitution of the 
moral universe. It is the necessary consequence of 
their character. It belongs to their state of alienation 
from God, and disagreement with the great features of 
his character and government. He is the alone pure, 
lasting, and satisfying good, to which his rational crea- 
tures can have access. There is no other resting place 
for the souls of his sinful offspring. He, whose all- 
pervading energy sustains the physical creation, and 
preserves all its parts in harmony, alone is able to still 
the disorders, and restore to harmony the troubled do- 
minion of a single human soul. So that, were it 
possible, that such as never had the means of be- 
coming acquainted with his character, and law, and 
administration, from revelation, should never feel any 
aversion to that character, or transgress that law, or 
oppose that government, they must, nevertheless, 
be destitute of the essential element of true peace. 
There must be, in the case of such, disorder and con- 
flict among the powers and passions of their own minds. 
There must be even there, where there is no clear dis- 
covery of the object they are especially prepared to 
disrelish, or of the claims to which they have an instinc- 
tive repugnance, a restlessness which no resources of 
theirs can compose. But this naturally perturbed and 
restless state of mind, is greatly aggravated in the case 
of those who, amidst the light of the gospel, have this 
clear discovery forced upon them. The element, which 
in itself can never know repose, is thrown into more 



60 THERE IS NO PEACE 

violent commotions at the approach of light and breath 
from a purer region. No where this side of the world 
where the woes of perdition are felt, do the wicked ex- 
perience so much of what those woes are, as beneath 
the light and influences of the gospel. Nothing so dis- 
turbs, agitates, and pains their unquiet bosoms, as dis- 
tinctive gospel truth, poured in upon their minds in its 
simple and undisguised form. For such truth is only 
a developement of those features in the Divine charac- 
ter and dispensations, which are especially obnoxious to 
the natural heart of man. They are thus obnoxious, 
because they have an aspect of threatening evil upon 
the ungodly. All the truths, which can be considered 
peculiar to Christianity, though they are singularly sus- 
taining, comforting, and sanctifying to believers, yet as 
they imply or assert the perilous condition of the unre- 
newed, must serve only to alarm and distress them. 
It is on this account, that persons in an impenitent state, 
when conscience or other considerations lead them to 
read the word of God, and to attend upon the plain and 
faithful preaching of the gospel, neglect those parts of 
scripture, which announce truths the most alarming to 
them, and abstract their minds as much as possible, 
from those parts of a sermon which aim to bring home 
to their deepest sensibilities, some of the more solemn 
and awakening doctrines of the bible. For the same rea- 
son, others, whose consciences have becomejess tender, 
or whose outward circumstances may be more favora- 
ble to such a course, almost entirely abandon the written 
word of God, and heap to themselves preachers who, in- 
stead of laboring to destroy a spurious and unreal peace, 
endeavor to quiet the invariable restlessness of the un- 
sanctified mind, or to quell the perturbations, which 
truth will occasionally excite in such a mind, by preach- 
ing another gospel which is not another. Thus having 
a mind, which from the very elements of its depraved 
nature, must be uneasy — must be forever seeking and 
panting for good where it does not exist — must be con- 



TO THE WICKED. 61 

tinually throwing back upon its own painful conscious- 
ness, the mingled billows of disappointment and dissat- 
isfaction — and possessing too, tastes and preferences, 
inclinations and passions, opposed to the whole aim and 
tendency of revealed truth, who does not perceive 
wherefore it is, that the wicked cannot know peace, but 
must carry about with them, even in this life, a bosom 
filled with conflict, war, and woe ? 

In considering this inquiry, it is proper that I should 
just notice another reason, which lies beyond, and is, 
indeed, the cause of those which have already been 
mentioned, why the existing condition of the ungodly is 
so far from being felicitous. This reason is to be found 
in the benevolent economy of God's government of his 
moral creation. It is this, which forms the constitution 
of the moral universe. This creates that necessity, 
which forever links together sin and misery. In bound- 
less benevolence it is fixed by the eternal law of Jeho- 
vah's throne, that, if any of his rational offspring will 
sin, they must suffer — if they will wander from him, 
they must walk in darkness — if they will rise in rebel- 
lion against all the merciful tendencies of his gracious 
sway, they must banish peace from their souls, and stir 
up there a ceaseless desolating war of appetites and pas- 
sions. 

III. I come to notice more particularly, the condi- 
tion of the wicked as indicated by the figure in the text. 
They are like the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, 
whose waters cast up mire and dirt. Though often ap- 
parently tranquil, cheerful, or gay, they are nevertheless 
full of troublous emotions. While to the eye which 
cannot look into the chambers of their souls, all seems 
composed and quiet ; they are in a state in which rest 
is impossible. Where too, this inward war and rebel- 
lion are concealed from human view, the incessant rage 
of inbred inclinations and desires, and the feelings of 
unreconciliation and enmity awakened by the truth, or 
the providence of God, are continually developing to 



62 THERE IS NO PEACE 

his omniscient mind, the impurities of that fountain^ 
from which proceed all the nameless sins and abomina- 
tions of our depraved nature. But I feel the utter im- 
potency of any language of mine to explain or add em- 
phasis to this striking representation of the unrenewed 
sinner's state. I would only turn your minds to the 
impressive emblem of that condition. And my hearers, 

Have you not beheld yon world of waters, 

When swept by tempests fierce, how it raised 

Its turbid billows to the skies, and seemed 

To war against those pure and sunny climes, 

Which share perpetual peace, far above 

Clouds, and storms, and darkness ; how they sunk 

Far down, as if to meet in conflict dread, 

The horrid world below ? Have you not looked, 

Until its troubled bosom labored for repose, 

Bat could not rest — could not calm its surges — 

Could not hush its.boist'rous undulations — 

Nor spread out its element smooth and pure, 

To reflect from its peaceful, limpid depths, 

The loveliness of that bright world above ? 

But did you not gaze on, until you saw, 

When from that world of light, parting the clouds, 

And scattering all the storm, a breath came down, 

And mov'd on ocean's agitated breast, — 

How all its warning billoAvs sunk away — 

Its deep convulsions ceased — its groans were stilled, 

And heaven lay smiling on its calm expanse ! 

O then you have seen, dimly shadowed forth, 

The troubled empire of the sinner's soul, 

Before it feels the power, and seeks the rest, — 

Bears and reflects the moral < charms of Heaven. 

And imaged there, you saw, how great the change, 

When He, whose voice erst reared creation's frame, 

Says to the troubled bosom — "Peace — Be still!" 

Then all is peaceful, quiet, pure, and fresh, 

As the young morning of the first-made day. 

Stilled are the loud raging waves of passion, 

Long foaming out their shame. The soul finds rest 

From burning, restless, and impure desires. 

Forever ended is its war with Heaven. 

While Heaven's own peace, and loveliness, 

Diffus'd through all its faculties, shine forth, 

And show to man sin-darkened here below, 

How great their peace whose thoughts delight in God ; 



TO THE WICKED. 63 

How fair the new-born soul which grace creates ; 
How pure the bliss that reigns in minds renewed! 

Effectually to apply the truths which have now been 
exhibited, is His exclusively, who has written them on 
the pages of the bible. I may not, however, close this 
discourse without asking such of my hearers as have 
not made their peace with God, seriously and solemnly 
to weigh these truths in their minds, That you have 
no real peace of mind, is a truth bearing the stamp of 
the divine testimony, and confirmed by your own pain- 
ful experience. The great reason why you are stran- 
gers to peace, is to be found in the state of your hearts. 
That is a depraved state. A state involving an utter 
disrelish of whatsoever things are spiritually pure and 
lovely. A state consequently opposed to infinite purity, 
and all the great and. essential principles by which he 
governs the universe, and displays to that universe his 
own most glorious character. A state too, of inward 
moral disorder and conflict — without any self-restoring 
and self-quieting power. A state which nothing so ful- 
ly represents as the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, 
whose waters cast up mire and dirt. But God, who 
in the constitution of the moral world, connects sinning 
with suffering, who has made your alienation from him- 
self, a departure from peace, has done this that you 
might be constrained to escape to that refuge ; that rest- 
ing place which he has opened in the gospel, for the 
wandering, and wearied, the troubled and restless sin- 
ner. And allow me affectionately to urge you to 
abandon every other refuge but this. Make the Sa- 
viour your only resting-place. Until you do this, you 
cannot know peace. In the soul purifying religion of 
Jesus, you will find a bark which will outride, not only 
all the storms of earth and time, but bear you safely to 
the shores of that eternal world, where the wicked, cease 
from troubling and the weary are at rest. In that re- 
ligion you will find a power, nowhere else to be found, 
adequate to reduce to order, and harmony, and tran- 



64 THERE IS NO PEACE TO THE WICKED. 

quillity, the chaos, and conflict, and agitation of your 
minds. Coming to Him who offers rest to the weary 
and oppressed — to Him who is the great and only peace- 
maker between your souls and God, you will find him 
breathing a pure, a calm, a subduing influence through 
all their faculties. Coming to Him, you will find his 
blood, so long despised and trampled upon, has an 
atoning and cleansing efficacy, which alone can still the 
clamors of a guilty conscience, and pour into the bosom 
the purity and peace of Heaven. 

And will you come ? Will you accept of peace ? 
Will you let your souls have rest ? Or must they be 
the seat of conflicts and restless anxieties forever ? I 
cannot but intreat you to spare yourselves such an end. 
There is peace for you, if you will cease to be wicked. 
You can know peace, if you will know and trust in 
Christ. O, make the experiment. You cannot add to 
your wretchedness by such a course. You cannot but 
gain peace. Come, and you shall hear 

Him whose voice erst reared creation's frame, 

Say to the troubled bosom — Peace. Be still. 

He'll still the loud raging waves of passion, 

Long foaming out their shame. He'll give thee rest 

From burning, restless, and impure desires. 

He'll end forever your long war with Heaven. 

While Heaven's own peace and loveliness 

Shed through all your soul, shall rise to view, 

And show to man, sin-darkened here below — 

How great their peace whose thoughts delight in God ; 

How fair the new-born soul which grace creates ; 

How pure the bliss that reigns in minds renewed. 



§ERJTIOT¥ V 



The Wicked urged to forsake his Way. 



ISAIAH LV. 6, 7. 

SEEK YE THE LORD, WHILE HE MAY P.E FOUND, CALL YE UPON 
HIM WHILE HE IS NEAR. LET THE WICKED FORSAKE HIS 
WAY, AND THE UNRKtHTEOUS MAN HIS THOUGHTS ; AND LET 
HIM RETURN UNTO THE LORD, AND HE WILL HAVE MERCY 
UPON HIM ; AND TO OUR GOD ; FOR HE WILL ABUNDANTLY 
PARDON. 



Isaiah has been called the evangelical prophet. 
The person and kingdom of Christ are his grand per- 
vading theme. His mind seems to have been engross- 
ed with most vivid and accurate discoveries of the then 
approaching ages of the gospel's promulgation and tri- 
umphs. He writes, as one standing amidst the light 
shed upon the world by the full disclosures of the new 
dispensation. He, evidently had his eye fixed on the 
age, in which it is our privilege to live. And, moved 
by the Spirit of Jesus Christ, he is now speaking to us 
from the far remote period of nearly three thousand 
years ago, in the words I have just repeated. At that 
distant age, and on the very summit of that elevation to 
which the spirit of prophecy raised him, he stood and 
spake to coming ages, to distent nations, to Jews and 
Gentiles, — to all those, who, in the progress of events, 
should be brought to hear or read the volume of heavenly 
grace. However appropriate may have been the call 
to his own nation, in view of the dawn of gospel days. 
6* 



66 THE WICKED URGED 

it certainly comes to us with an appositeness and force, 
which could not have been accidental — which could not 
but have proceeded from the knowledge and good- 
ness of Him, to whom all times, and circumstances, 
and persons are present and fully known. The tone 
and manner of address, too, here adopted, are in such 
perfect accordance with the calls of our Saviour in the 
days of his flesh, that the same Spirit must have dicta- 
ted both. He who, while on earth, stood and cried, 
saying> if any man thirst, let him come unto me and 
drink, could have been no other than He who, in the 
beginning of the chapter containing the text, cries to the 
thirsty, and hungry, the poor and perishing — Ho, every 
one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that 
hath no money : come ye, buy and eat ; yea, come, buy 
wine and milk without money, and without price. 
Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not 
bread, and your labor for that which satisfieth not 9 
Hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is 
good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness. In- 
cline your ear, and come unto me : hear, and your soul 
shall live ; and I will make an everlasting covenant 
with you, even the sure mercies of David. 

The text, then, is the Saviour's call to the wicked 
and to the unrighteous — to the impenitent and unbeliev- 
ing. He calls them to duty and to happiness. Three 
things are chiefly urged as duty ; and three principal 
considerations are suggested as motives or encourage- 
ment to perform them. To some observations on these, 
permit me to ask the attention of my hearers ; especial- 
ly such of them as may yet be in a state of unconver- 
sion. 

I. The duty here enjoined upon the ungodly. The 
terms, wicked and unrighteous, are here doubt- 
less used as synonymous. A wicked man is an un- 
righteous man, and an unrighteous man is a wicked man. 
It is enjoined upon them, 

1 . Earnestly to seek, and call upon the Lord. They 



TO FORSAKE HIS WAY. 67 

are in a state of revolt from their allegiance to God. 
In heart and conduct, they have withdrawn from those 
devoted servants of the Lord, who obey him through 
love, and have combined with his enemies, who rebel 
against his law and administration, because they disrelish 
his control. Their first duty is to seek him, as one 
whom they have willingly and wickedly left — as one, 
whom by their conduct they have induced to depart 
from them, and to withhold from them his special favor. 
They are to endeavor to become reconciled to him ; 
to take such views of his character, as may show them 
the reasonableness and privilege of being in a state of 
harmony with him ; to look with solicitude to the way 
of reconciliation ; to become acquainted with him as 
revealed in the gospel ; and to begin to seek their hap- 
piness in him. They are anxiously to inquire after him 
as their chief good, their portion, their rest, their end. 
For direction in their inquiries, they are to search the 
volume of his word. This testifies of him, and reveals 
him. This is the light given to guide their steps to 
him. There can be no correct notions of him gained 
without recourse to this unnerring guide. Men some- 
times search the book of nature alone, to gain an ac- 
quaintance with God. But they always search in vain. 
The God of nature, or the God whom men come to 
think of and believe in, without examining revelation, 
would be a terrible God to men in any measure ac- 
quainted with their condition and wants as sinners. 
That God knows no mercy, exercises no acts of pardon, 
and affords no influence to new-create and purify the 
unholy and unclean. That God has nothing to tell the 
anxious mind about the world beyond the grave. He 
reveals no pure and unearthly joys above the sky. He 
offers no support amidst the gathering woes of life. He 
has nothing to give the weary soul, as it hovers on the 
utmost verge of time, that strengthens its pinions and 
guides its flight through the dark valley. They that 
would seek God, then, must seek him in his word — 
where his grace and mercy shine. 



68 THE WICKED URGED 

The earnest pursuit of God here enjoined, includes 
prayer. Call upon him. No pursuit of God, as our 
portion and rest, will prove availing, if it be not attend- 
ed with prayer. Tins is an anxious direction of the 
thoughts and desires towards God. There is nothing 
like this service to enable the dark-minded sinner, to 
acquaint himself with God. Every such act, must 
make the sinner feel more and more his own guilty de- 
parture from him — his need of help from him, -and his 
entire unworthiness of the smallest favor. If he has a 
strong desire of one thing, the expression of that desire 
to God, will excite other desires. Be it then the first 
endeavor of all, who are yet in their sins, to seek and 
call upon the Lord. Let them seek, that they may 
pray, and pray, that they may seek. No one ever 
found God, who did not seek him. No one ever ob- 
tained the blessings of salvation, that did not call upon 
God for them. 

2. Another thing enjoined, on sinners, is the aban- 
donment of their ways of sin. Let the wicked 

FORSAKE HIS WAY AND THE UNRIGHTEOUS MAN HIS 

thoughts. It is sin that constitutes the sinner's re- 
bellion against God. Every act of sin is the rising up 
of a worm of the dust against Jehovah. It is this, which 
estranges creatures from their Creator. The duty here 
commanded, is that the wicked cease to practice every 
outward, known, gross sin, and cease to neglect any 
outward known duty. 'I hey are at once to turn from 
the way of sin — to abandon it — to leave it off — to put 
it away from them. They must forsake the way of 
sin, as the way that can conduct them to no good — as a 
false way, that will not lead to the good it may seem to 
promise, but to every species of evil. They must aban- 
don sin, as they abandon the company of persons, who 
have proved themselves deceitful, injurious, and alto- 
gether unworthy of confidence or regard. They must 
throw it off, as a loathsome, offensive, and oppressive 
burden, that they cannot, and will not any longer suffer 



TO FORSAKE HIS WAY. 69 

to encumber and offend them. They must put it away 
as something inconsistent with their character, disrepu- 
table to them, and what they cannot any longer endure 
to have about them. This duty extends to the mind 
and heart. It respects the fountain of iniquity — the 
root of the evil — the very spring of the mischief. The 
judgment, the taste, the dispositions, the passions, the 
imaginations of the soul are to be altered. The un- 
righteous man must forsake his thoughts. His impure 
thoughts — his hard thoughts of God — his contemptuous 
thoughts of the people of God — his light thoughts of 
sin — his angry thoughts at the divine allotments — his 
unkind thoughts towards men — his thoughts of envy, of 
malice, of revenge. All these thoughts must be sup- 
pressed and forsaken. All false refuges, all vain confi- 
dences, all spurious hopes, all false views of religion, 
and all empty pretences to piety must be abandoned. 
The unrighteous must cease to think themselves safe — 
must cease to think they can save themselves — must 
cease to think the way of salvation is unreasonably 
straight and narrow — must cease to think that the pur- 
poses of God preclude the necessity of endeavors on 
the part of sinners to obtain salvation. In a word — 
they must give up all thoughts of being saved by means 
of any works of righteousness, which they can do. 

3. The last thing enjoined as a duty on sinners, is 
a cordial return to the Lord. Let him return unto 
the Lord. This is no outward act. Their depart- 
ure and alienation from God, are the acts of the mind 
and heart, and this must be so too. They may go to 
his house, and, from Sabbath to Sabbath, mingle with 
his people in the visible services of devotion. They 
may go to his word, and read it with habitual attention 
and a measured interest. They may be in the habit of 
a formal approach to God in prayer. But none of 
these acts, in themselves, necessarily involves their cor- 
dial return to the Lord. The return here required, is 
to be like the return of revolted subjects to their sover- 



70 THE WICKED URGED 

eign Lord. A heartfelt regret, is to mingle with their 
sentiments of renewed submission to his rightful control. 
Grief for past acts of rebellion, is to mingle with, and 
melt the heart into unfeigned and cheerful acts of un- 
alterable devotion to his interests and obedience to his 
authority. In such a return, there is no counter move- 
ment of the mind, no inward drawing back from his 
supreme dominion, and no concealed rebellion still lin- 
gering in the heart. It is like the return of the prodi- 
gal to his father's house. The tears of grief and joy 
flow together, and tell the mingled emotions of the soul. 
It is bitter, that they have departed from such a father, 
but it is sweet to return to his welcoming call. It is 
bitter to have thus madly reduced themselves to such 
a state of degradation and misery, but it is sweet to be 
permitted and enabled to return to a home, a resting- 
place, a refuge, elevated above the low pleasures, and 
cruel vicissitudes of earth. The return to God, to which 
sinners are called, is like returning to a fountain of liv- 
ing waters, which had been forsaken for broken cis- 
terns that can hold no water. How would one reproach 
and condemn himself for having conducted so unrea- 
sonably, so foolishly, so ruinously, and hasten back with 
eagerness, with gratitude, and joy ! 

Now, does the Saviour in the text make an unrea- 
sonable demand on sinners ? Does he require too much ? 
Is it not reasonable and right, that sinners wandering 
from God in darkness, in sin, in suffering, should be re- 
quired to return to him ? Is it not right that they should 
forsake their way and their thoughts, and afresh give up 
themselves to the Infinite One ? But, 

II. There is encouragement presented — there are 
motives suggested to induce their performance of the du- 
ty commanded. It would be reasonable, and right, and 
fit, that the wicked should forsake their wickedness, and 
seek and return to God, if no special encouragement 
were presented — if no good were to result to them in 
consequence of doing so, But infinite is the encour- 



TO FORSAKE HIS WAY. 71 

agement. For if they will seek and call upon Him, as 
has been mentioned, they may be assured, 

1. That he is near and can be found. It is need- 
less to remark on the sense in which God is ever near, 
and in which it is impossible to go where he is not to 
be found. The scriptures have a peculiar way of speak- 
ing on this subject. A way which to some may seem 
unphilosophical and unintelligible. But the people of 
God have learned how to interpret it. God is properly 
said to be near, when the means and agencies by which 
he effects his benevolent purposes, are near — when the 
medium through which he is wont to communicate 
spiritual good, is at hand. In this sense, we are author- 
ized to consider him ever in his word and ordinances. 
When the Sabbath dawns upon a sinner, he may know 
that God is near and ready, through means of its sa- 
cred avocations, to communicate spiritual good to his 
soul. If, as the light of this holy day breaks upon him, 
he will seek the Lord and call upon His name, He will 
be found near to listen to the earnest cry, and to send a 
gracious answer. Every time unconverted men ente: 
the house of God, they may know, that he is there in a 
peculiar sense, to communicate saving benefits. They 
may know that the time and place favor their humble 
pursuit of salvation. So too, whenever they open the 
book of God, they may be assured, that God is near and 
ready to manifest himself graciously to their souls. In- 
deed, so long as they are seriously concerned to find 
God, He will not continue to disappoint their desires. 
So long as the gospel is preached to them, so long it 
will not be in vain fo:' them to seek Him, and to call up- 
on Him. 

But, there are seasons of His more special presence, 
when His Spirit is made, in a more signal manner, to 
attend the means of grace. At such times, there is 
every possible encouragement to seek. These are em- 
phatically the times, when he may be found by the 
wicked. When the unconverted feel their minds in any 



72 THE WICKED URGED 

measure impressed with a conviction of their spiritual 
wants — when it seems to them peculiarly desirable to 
become partakers of saving mercy — when their friends 
and acquaintances are espousing the cause of God, and 
coming to enjoy pledges of forgiving love, — they may 
know, that the patience of God is waiting on them, that 
His word is calling them, and that His Spirit is striving 
with them. Then may they know, that if they seek 
the Lord, they may find him— that if they call upon 
Him, He will be near to listen, and to grant their re^- 
quests. In view of such considerations as these, do not 
the words of the Saviour in the text, address themselves 
with singular emphasis — with irresistable force and ur- 
gency to every impenitent person in this assembly ? — 
Seek ye the Lord, while he may be found, call 
ye upon him while he is near. 

2. Another motive to obedience to the direction of 
the text, is the promise of the divine mercy. Let the 

WICKED FORSAKE HIS WAY, AND THE UNRIGHTEOUS 
MAN HIS THOUGHTS, AND LET HIM RETURN UNTO THE 
LORD, AND HE WILL HAVE MERCY UPON HIM. What 

encouragement is here presented. It may be safely 
said, that all is here promised, that a truly converted 
sinner can ever desire or need. Mercy is a union of 
love and pity, manifested in relieving the suffering of 
the poor and miserable. Sinners are emphatically poor 
and miserable. They have little else than their sin, 
and that is the fruitful source of a deep wretchedness 
of soul. Now, for God to love, and pity, and relieve 
such, is enough, one would suppose, to inspire with 
purposes of obedience, the most distant wanderer from 
him. Will God in very deed have mercy upon me 9 
it would seem each sinner must be ready to say, then 
will I seek him, then will I call upon him, then will I 
abandon my evil ways and thoughts, and turn unto him. 
God will treat no sinner who does thus, as he deserves, 
but will have compassion on him, and bring him out of 
misery, and train him up for glory. He will give to 



TO FORSAKE HIS WAY. 73 

every such person the only thing that can cure their 
wretchedness. He will give them the renewing and 
sanctifying influences of His Holy Spirit. The domin- 
ion of sin over their souls, shall be weakened and final- 
ly extinguished. No longer at war with him, no longer 
enemies to him by wicked works, peace shall begin its 
eternal reign in their bosoms. The joy of salvation 
shall prevail, where, but recently, nothing but the most 
gloomy forebodings of endless suffering found a place. 
What a motive, then, is here for sinners to return to 
God. He delights in mercy. The misery of sinners 
is especially the object of his mercy. He will frown 
upon none that seek to return to him. But his pity 
will prompt the proffer of aid to strengthen, and of hope 
to cheer them, as soon as they begin to return. When 
he was a great way off, his father saw him, and had 
compassion, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed 
him. 

3. God will abundantly pardon every sinner that 
truly returns to him. To pardon sinners, is so to remit 
their sin or to remove their guilt, that the threatened 
curse shall not come upon them — that the just punish- 
ment shall not be inflicted. As soon as any one really 
returns to God, all his sin is thus forgiven. Some of 
the consequences of past transgression may follow, but 
the greatest evil of it, its merited future punishment, will 
not follow. There is something more than this implied 
in the promise here. God will abundantly pardon. 
Or, as it is sometimes read, he will multiply pardons. 
He will pardon the greatest sinner. No one, who has 
a heart to return to the Lord, need to fear that his sins 
exceed the measure of the divine forgiveness. It is not 
possible that they should. Although they have become 
innumerable in extent, and extremely aggravated in 
character, a disposition to submit to God, may assure 
every one, that all his wickedness is so removed, that 
its guilt shall not bring down the slightest retributive 
punishment in the coming world. To the returning 



74 THE WICKED URGED 

penitent, God will afford a present token ol his pardon- 
ing love. But, as the penitent does not cease to com- 
mit sin, his continued transgressions may suggest seri- 
ous fears, that he is a stranger to the forgiving grace of 
God. His forgiveness will, therefore, be more and 
more intimated to him, as he struggles on through the 
gathering evil of his life, and fervently maintains the in- 
ward conflict with sin. As he multiplies sins, and pen- 
itently mourns over them, God will multiply his acts of 
pardoning mercy. Such are the specific promises with 
which the Most High seeks to encourage sinners to re- 
turn to himself. He will be near and ready to be found. 
He will abound in acts of mercy to them. He will 
abundantly pardon all their sins. But 1 must remark, 

First, That a time is approaching, when the God of 
mercy and forgiveness , will be far from the wicked and 
no longer to be found. This is distinctly implied in the 
text. When they are urged to seek him, while he may 
be found, and to call upon him, while he is near, it is de- 
clared by implication, that they may seek him, when he 
will not be found, and may call upon him, when he will 
not be near. That time will be, when the day of his 
patience is over, and the methods of his mercy are no 
longer employed to bring men to repentance. At death 
and at judgment, undeniably, the door of mercy and of 
hope will be shut. Instances occur in this life, of the 
heart of sinners becoming incurably hardened. Long 
abuse and misimprovement of the means of grace, lead 
to such a fearful result. Long resistance of the striving 
of God's Spirit, thus terminates. They, who will not 
seek the Lord, or call upon him, though urged to do it 
for years by all the motives which are to be drawn from 
the book of God, may long before they die find that 
there is no pardoning God for them. And if they do 
not find evidence of this, the fact may exist. That sin- 
ner, who once resolved to seek the Lord, but soon re- 
linquished the pursuit — who once called upon God in 
prayer, but soon gave it up as an irksome task, has rea- 



TO FORSAKE HIS WAY. 75 

son to fear that bis day of salvation has gone by. He 
has reason to fear it, because very few, who have pass- 
ed through such a course, ever found the Lord, and 
because they have no heart to seek or to pray to him. 

Secondly. A time is coming, when the Lord, instead 
of being a merciful and forgiving God to sinners, will 
become only a just and avenging God to them. He, 
who now promises them the acts of his mercy and free 
forgiveness, if they will forsake their sins and return un- 
to him, is held bound to let his threatened punishment 
take its course, if they do not. Sinners are miserable 
now, as accountable and immortal beings, and it is only 
for them to fail of the divine mercy to continue so for- 
ever in an ever-increasing measure. Unrenewed, un- 
changed, and unforgiven, they must inherit indignation 
and wrath, tribulation and anguish forevermore. Sin- 
ners, then, must forsake their cherished sins, or be 
eternally forsaken of a merciful God. They must re- 
turn unto him, or they must sooner or later be summon- 
ed to depart accursed into everlasting fire prepared for 
the devil and his angels. They are noc saved by their 
works, nor can they be saved in their sins. They must 
put them away, or be abandoned to the inevitable con- 
sequences of unpardoned sin. They must return unto 
God, or be turned into hell. But, 

Thirdly, I delight to recur to the topics of present 
encouragement which are here addressed to the uncon- 
verted. Let me close my remarks, by affectionately 
and earnestly beseeching you to seek the Lord now. — 
Seekjiim immediately. Seek him earnestly. Seek 
him continually. And you shall not seek in vain. You 
shall find him. Call upon him. Begin to pray believingly, 
feelingly, and perseveringly ; — and you shall obtain evi- 
dence that he is graciously near you. Forsake your wick- 
ed ways. — Change your course of life. Give a new and 
heavenly direction to your thoughts. Diligently keep your 
heart. Turn speedily unto the Lord. Wait not for to- 
morrow's sun. Turn cordially unto the Lord. Keep not 



76 THE WICKED URGED, &C. 

back your heart. Turn penitently unto the Lord. Carry 
with you to him the sacrifice of a broken spirit. Turn 
exclusively unto him. Make him your only refuge, por- 
tion, and rest. And your restless hearts shall repose in 
the sweet consciousness of his mercy to you, and in the 
increasing tokens of your pardon and acceptance with 
God. He is to be found now. He is near to-day. — 
He is waiting to be gracious. Must he be denied the 
opportunity of having mercy upon you ?- Will you not 
permit him to multiply his acts of pardon upon you ? 



iPhe Harbinger's Cry, addressed to Christians. 

MA TTHEW III. 3. 

PREPARE YE THE WAY OF THE LORD, MAKE HIS PATHS STRAIGHT, 

Tt Has ever been the grand error of mankind, to live 
in the expectation of some desired good without any 
earnest engagement in its pursuit, or solicitous endeav- 
ors to be prepared for its reception. This has been 
eminently true of them in respect to the early-promi- 
sed and never-ending blessing of salvation through the 
Redeemer. Long was his advent the object of fervent 
desire and confident expectation by the only people on 
earth, who were made acquainted with the designs of 
heavenly mercy. Nearly at the period when the ful- 
ness of time had come, their expectation of his speedy 
appearance was so raised, by the concurrent intima- 
tions of prophecy and of providence, as to diffuse the 
impression very widely among surrounding natioa's. 
But though all were looking for him, very few were pre- 
pared to welcome his appearing. Even the most fa- 
vored portion of the human family — 'the nation that had 
enjoyed the richest means of religious culture, was fitly 
compared to a desert* In its moral and religious con- 
dition, it presented the aspect of dreary barrenness — of 
a pathless waste. Turned as were their minds with 
ardent hope and prying eagerness to detect, in the events 

of their day, some tokens of their promised deliverer's 
7# 



?8 THE 

approach, and familiar as they were with the stirring 
call of the prophet to prepare the way of the Lord — to 
make straight in the desert a highway for their God, 
they were not ready to receive him. In this state of 
unpreparedness they continued up to the very period, 
when he who went before him in the spirit and power 
of Elias, began to preach, calling them to repentance, 
as the voice of one crying in the wilderness — Prepare 

YE THE WAY OF THE LORD, MAKE HIS PATHS STRAIGHT. 

The consequence was, that full of blessings for the 
world, as were the hands of the Redeemer, they were 
not in a state to receive them. Numerous obstacles 
prevented their reception of them. They misappre- 
hended the character of his person, the object of his 
mission, and the nature of his kingdom. They were 
strongly prejudiced against his lowly appearance and 
his humbling doctrines. They were blind to their dan- 
ger and ignorant of their wants. So that he came to his 
own, but his own received him not. While, to as many 
as were seasonably ready and waiting for the consola- 
tion of Israel, he communicated the benefits of his sal- 
vation. 

I consider the text contemplated in this connexion, 
as teaching a great general lesson interesting to men in 
the present world, always, and everywhere. Christians 
very constantly live in the expectation, more or less con- 
fident, of the future presence of the Saviour among them 
in the enlargement and purification of his church. 
While most of those who are not christians, yet favored 
with christian ordinances, almost as constantly cherish 
the expectation of one day becoming savingly interest- 
ed in his redemption. Now the great lesson taught by 
the text is, that in order, in either case, to have any 
reasonable ground for such an expectation, there must 
be a previous preparation for the blessing. The way 
of the Lord must be prepared. It will be my ob- 
ject to point out, in several particulars, in what this pre- 
paration consists, both in the case of the people of God. 



ADDRESSED TO CHRISTIANS. 79 

and in the case of those, who do not deem themselves 
such. 

I. What may the text be considered as enjoining 
on Christians, or the members of any particular church, 
who profess to be desirous of the Saviour's special pres- 
ence in a revival of his work among them ? What 
must they do to prepare the way of the Lord ? In 
speaking of the agency which creatures of the dust may 
have in inviting the saving presence of Christ among 
them, it is not forgotten, that he does not need their 
agency. He can prepare his own way before him. 
When he is pleased to rend the heavens and come down, 
mountains flow down at his presence. He can work 
when, and where he chooses, and none can hinder. 
He can make his way, where all seems unapproachable 
and impassable to the influence of his holy and peacea- 
ble dominion. Bringing low mountains and hills and 
raising valleys, he can open a passage for himself, and 
establish his reign, where before no heart desired or 
was ready to welcome his presence. Nay, he can even 
triumph over the obstacles which his own avowed friends 
find it in their hearts to oppose to his growing sway, 
and pour out his Spirit and convert sinners to himself 
amidst the reigning apathy, the guilty remissness, and 
fearful worldliness of Christians. But the inquiry is, 
not what he can do, or what he will do ; but what pre- 
paration does he require in his people, who are left with- 
out tokens of his saving influence, and on what ground 
can they reasonably expect such a favor ? I observe 
then, 

1. That in order that Christians may do what they 
can to prepare the way of the Lord, it is necessary 
that they possess a broken and a contrite heart. I men- 
tion this first, because it is of the very first importance. 
It is an indispensable prerequisite to any other prepara- 
tion. Nothing can be done to any purpose so long as 
this is wanted. Every feeling, purpose, and effort of 
the christian, which can have any agency in the remo* 



80 THE HARBINGER 3 S CRY 

val of obstacles in the way of a revival of the christian 
interest in particular places, must spring directly and 
solely from this state of heart. It is the same state of 
heart, that such a revival always produces in a greater 
or less number of those, who before were hardened 
through the deceitfulness of sin. For Christians to pos- 
sess it, is only to be themselves what they avowedly 
desire to have unbelieving men around them become. 
It is to be again, to a greater extent and in a deeper 
degree, what they once were, and what to their increas- 
ing unhappiness and guiltiness, they have in an alarm- 
ing measure gradually ceased to be. And may it not 
be asked, how can they reasonably expect an unbeliev- 
ing world around them will become such as they pro- 
fessedly desire, if they become not such as they profess 
to be ? As the success of their endeavors to bring sin- 
ners to a saving acquaintance with Christ, must in their 
own view, depend on the cordial sincerity with which 
they are made, and as the question of their sincerity 
must turn on the great point, whether or not they are 
humble and contrite in their own spirits ; how can they 
look for the special divine presence, so long as they are 
unconscious of any thing like a deep humiliation of soul 
before the Holy One ? How can they expect to be 
accepted and succeeded in their prayers and labors for 
the advancement of the Redeemer's kingdom among 
men, so long as they are not accompanied with those 
sacrifices which God will not despise ? If we trace the 
methods of Jehovah's treatment of his people through 
all past ages, it will be seen, that he has invariably frown- 
ed upon them, by withdrawing from them the special 
influences of his Spirit, and resigning them to that ter- 
rible ascendancy of a wicked world, which must always 
follow such a withdrawment, — whenever they have lost 
their lively sense of personal sin, become comparatively 
indifferent to its evil, and lifted up with vain notions of 
their personal sanctity and consequent exemption from 
danger. How can christians, then, in such a state, fail 



ADDRESSED TO CHRISTIANS. 81 

to perceive that they are the guilty cause of inducing the 
departure of the Saviour from among them, and that 
they are the mountains and hills to be brought low, to 
prepare the way for his return ? A single glance at the 
tenor of those exceeding great and precious promises 
which God has made to his people, will satisfy us, that 
they chiefly respect, in the children of God, this very 
state of heart of which I am speaking. They are made 
to believers as broken-hearted sinners. The high and 
lofty One has promised to look favorably to none be- 
sides — to dwell with, and revive the spirits of none be- 
sides. The necessity of Christians possessing a lowly 
and contrite frame of mind, in order to their doing 
what they can to prepare the way of the Lord, 
must appear then, from the consideration^ that without 
it all their professed desires and seeming endeavors, 
must be altogether insincere and heartless ; and from 
the fact too, that they have no promise to ground the 
slightest expectation upon, without it, but on the con- 
trary, have the most substantial ground to expect, that 
God will sooner or later, by severe and terrible meth- 
ods, abase and bring them low. But there are other 
views of the subject, which present this necessity in a 
still more affecting light. They who have felt the pangs 
of heart-broken sorrow on account of their sins, and 
the attendant emotions of hope and joy in the Saviour, 
by relapsing into a state of comparative indifference to 
both, commit sins of greater magnitude and guiltiness, 
and do more to grieve and offend the Saviour, than 
such as remain strangers to the agonies of contrition, 
and the triumphs of joyful hope. They are the ones 
who, he expects, will be ever desiring his presence, 
ever seeking his saving influence, and ever engaging in 
removing hindrances and obstacles to his gracious ope- 
rations on the hearts of men. He looks to them to be 
a fair and affecting representation of his blessed sway 
among men, and to be the living medium through whom 
he attracts to himself a world lying in wickedness. 



82 THE 

How, then, must he view their conduct, when instead 
of removing, they become obstacles, and instead of be- 
ing the medium of such an attraction, they become the 
means of driving sinners away from him ? And how 
ought they to view themselves ? How ought they to 
rend their hearts, to loathe themselves, and lie in the 
dust before him ! All sinners ought to do it immedi- 
ately. It is reasonable, and right, and necessary, that 
they should. But of all others, sinners in Zion — sin- 
ners in the very highway of our God — sinners who have 
already done it, and then wickedly declined, should do 
it with a full view of their greater criminalness in so 
long lying barren incumbrances in the way of their 
Lord, in misrepresenting his religion, and in turning 
back by their example, those who were in the highway 
of Zion with their faces thitherward. Ah I they should 
hasten to regain this brokenness of heart, feeling that 
while they have it not, they are contributing to prevent 
the Saviour's achieving among them his wonderful works. 
And is there not enough in these views of the subject, 
to break, subdue, and humble the hearts of those who 
have been living in the church, with the spirit of the 
world reigning in their hearts ? 

2. To prepare the way of the Lord, it is neces- 
sary that christians gain a deep impression of the worth 
of the soul. This is necessary in relation to the per- 
formance of other duties, which has no unimportant 
agency in preparing the way and making the paths of 
the Lord straight. We need to take our esti- 
mate of the value of the soul from the estimate, which 
is seen to be set upon it by those stupendous move- 
ments, which were the result of the divine counsels, 
long before time began or a soul was created. In or- 
der to feel sufficiently desirous of the spiritual presence 
of Christ among us, it seems necessary we should con- 
template the soul in the light of those transactions which 
were concerned in the work of redemption. They pre- 
sent a measure of its worth no where else to be found 



ADDRESSED TO CHRISTIANS. 83 

and show us what worthless things are all the vast ob- 
jects of the material universe in comparison with a sin- 
gle soul of man. So strongly do our minds gravitate to 
earth, and so prone are we to refer objects to its low 
standard of valuation, that we never can feel what the 
soul is worth, and consequently how ineffably important 
it is, that the way of the Lord be prepared and 
made straight to the soul of every heir of eternity now 
on the shores of time, until borne on the wings of faith, 
and guided by the disclosures of unerring truth, we 
are lifted up to the contemplation of Him whose goings 
forth were of old — -from everlasting, and consider at 
once the glories of his throne, and the agonies of his 
cross — the hallelujahs of angels whom he left, and the 
reproaches of worms whom he came to save. Here, 
we may behold its value, according to the scale of 
Heaven. Here, we may see, how it was viewed by 
him who inhabits, and perpetually surveys the mighty 
range of eternal ages. And while we stand on this high 
point of contemplation, and view the human soul, as it 
were with the vision of Him who came into the world 
to redeem and save it, can we forbear to ask ourselves, 
what if our Redeemer had not been as boundless in his 
benevolence as in his being ? What if his love and 
compassion had not opened and prepared a way for 
him, from Heaven to earth ? Why then the only aven- 
ue out of time into eternity — the only passage-way from 
this world to the next had been down to the pit of in- 
terminable woe ! Then had these deathless natures of 
ours known no other destiny, but that of death eternal ! 
Then had the song of redeemed spirits never been heard 
in heaven. Then had the swelling tide of their pleas- 
ures never begun to pour its eternal stream through its 
regions of purity and love. Then, O then, the common 
destiny of our immortal race, had been one deep and 
dark current of unmingled and unending sorrows. And 
what, but an eternal line, can measure the worth of 
that part of man, which can forever rise or sink — for- 



84 

ever sin against the laws and suffer beneath the wrath 
of God, or forever exult in holy obedience to his gov- 
ernment, and bask beneath the smiles of his love ? — 
Surely, if any among the children of Adam can have 
any thing like an adequate impression of what it is 
worth, it must be those, who are in a degree redeemed 
from the power of sin— it must be those who, though 
they once 

" Saw the opening gates of hell 
With endless pains and sorrows there, 
Which none but they that feel, can tell, 
While they were hurried to despair," 

have also beheld with joyful faith the grace and saving 
power of the Redeemer. Let all who have had such 
an experience, endeavor to preserve, in their minds, 
their liveliest impressions of the value and the danger 
of every soul, that is not born from above. Then they 
cannot remit, their efforts to prepare the way of the 
Lord, and to make his paths straight to every im- 
penitent heart. 

3. Christians will not do what they can to prepare 
the way of the Lord, unless they are very faithful 
in admonishing their fellow sinners of their danger ; and 
directing them to the ark of safety. On this point, 
though much might be said, my limits require me to 
say but little. Owing to the natural reluctance which 
men have to the performance of this duty, and the va- 
riety of circumstances which in some measure limit and 
modify its requisite performance, there is, perhaps, no 
one duty from the observance of which christians seek 
to release themselves by so many plausible excuses. — 
Because what would not be faithfulness in one case, 
might be in another ; and because what might be duty 
in one case, might not be in another, christians in a 
state of declension are often very ingenious in their ex- 
pedients, to shift the responsibleness of warning and di- 
recting sinners, from themselves to others. It is need- 
less to detail these expedients. Let it be remembered, 



ADDRESSED TO CHRISTIANS. 85 

that they will be detailed with sufficient minuteness, 
will be revealed with sufficient distinctness, and in a 
connexion sufficiently heart-withering, at another day ! 
That we may not be agonized by a future disclosure 
of our ingenious attempts to escape the demands of this 
duty, let us bring into open day, and examine at the bar 
of conscience and of scripture, the true ground of our 
unwillingness to deal faithfully with our fellow men, in 
respect to their spiritual state and prospects. It is pos- 
sible, that by such an investigation it might appear, 
that we have declined this duty, not on account of our 
natural aversion to reprove and warn men, not on ac- 
count of our tenderness of feelings, that might shrink 
from giving pain to a fellow man, not because we did not 
see abundant reason why one and another, with whom 
we had daily intercourse, should be alarmed and excit- 
ed to flee from the wrath to come ; but because we were 
conscious of not living so as to reprove and admonish 
them, and dreaded the cutting retort they might justly 
address to us — Thou that teachest another, teachest not 
thou thyself 6 ! Physician, heal thyself. Do we, then, 
evince so little the temper of penitents ourselves, that 
we cannot hold up our head and exhort dying sinners 
to repent ? Do we live so little like the disciples of 
Christ, that we are ashamed to point the perishing around 
us, to the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the 
world ? If this be so, we need to be warned, and/ear- 
fulness should surprise us. If this is our case, we need 
to be reminded, that the great secret of faithfully and 
yet tenderly warning the impenitent of their danger — of 
exhorting them with holy boldness and yet with affec- 
tionate persuasiveness to repent and believe in Christ, 
is to have our minds strongly affected with a sense of 
the infinite value of the soul, the infinite danger that 
threatens it, and the infinite condescension, love, and 
compassion of Christ to the chief of sinners. Do this, 
christians, and this duty will become as grateful as the 
act of disburdening an oppressed and anxious bosom. 



86 the harbinger's cry 

* 4. In order that christians may do what they can to 
prepare the way of the Lord, they should be united 
in feeling, in purpose, in desires, and in efforts. If 
there is a single place on earth which the Saviour may 
be considered as delighting to -visit, it is the place where 
a church, thus united, meet to praise and pray. Into 
such a place, amidst such a people, the way of the 
Lord is made straight. There are no mountain bar- 
riers to oppose his progress. Such a church, or com- 
munity of saints, from the very constitution which God 
has given to his moral kingdom, will be the means of 
so inviting and securing the Saviour's spiritual pres- 
ence, as to multiply the subjects of his kingdom ; as to 
render a wider and wider extent of this desolate world, 
a fruitful garden of the Lord. Union in the ordinary 
concerns of this world, is strength. Eminently it is so 
in the kingdom of Christ, when it is union of holy feel- 
ings, aims, desires, and endeavors. On the contrary, 
how like a heath in the desert that knoweth not when 
good cometh, is a church in which there is no harmony 
of feelings, but discordant views, opposing aims, and 
conflicting efforts. They cannot walk together because 
they are not agreed. They strive, but not to keep the 
unity oj the spirit in the bond of peace. They contend, 
it may be with abundant earnestness, but not for the 
holy faith once delivered to the Saints. They may pray, 
but their prayers are hindered, because they are not the 
united prayers of those who are agreed as touching the 
great objects sought. And here it requires to be said, 
that something more is requisite to prepare the way 
of the Lord, than barely agreement as to what con- 
stitutes the great fundamental doctrines and duties of 
our religion. What is necessary, is agreement in the 
precise practical influence which our religion actually 
has on them. Such an agreement carries the whole 
body of a church together in all their movements. It 
unites all hearts and hands in the pursuit of the same 
great and ennobling class of objects. It gives to the 



ADDRESSED TO CHRISTIANS. 87 

associated members a oneness of influence. What one 
attempts in the cause of his Lord and Master, instead 
of being counteracted and defeated by the course of oth- 
ers, is aided and rendered successful by the mutual agen- 
cies of each and all. In short, it is a union cemented 
by the spirit of love, of purity and peace. A union re- 
sembling that which binds together, in eternal harmony, 
all the inhabitants of heaven. A union which is de- 
stined to be perpetuated and perfected there. And 
though we have as yet only imperfect samples of it, 
yet there are to be seen, here and there, approaches 
towards its perfection. Unceasing attempts to reach 
that, is the duty to which we are called. Such attempts 
will invite the Saviour's return. Such attempts will be 
no unimportant preparation of his way. If they are 
made by only a few, they have his promise to encour- 
age them. If two of you shall agree on earth as touch- 
ing any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for 
them of my Father in Heaven. For where two or three 
are gathered together in my name, there am I in the 
midst of them. And are there not two or three of us, 
who are disposed to make this attempt to prepare the 
way of the Lord ? to make straight in the desert, a 
highway for our God ? 

We often hear the inquiry, wherefore it is that our 
churches are not favored with the special presence of 
Christ. -It is an inquiry of momentous importance, and 
yet is often proposed with very little feeling of interest. 
If any of us are urging the inquiry, either with concern 
or not, the subject of this discourse may be regarded 
as furnishing an answer. It is because, there is not 
among us a preparation for it. Pride and self-righ- 
teousness lift their mountain obstacles in the way. — 
Christians have sinned, and not repented. They have 
declined from God, and yet they say, wherein have we 
declined*? They have imbibed a worldly spirit — have 
learned to use carnal weapons — have learned to depend 
on worldly expedients and plans — have learned to attempt 



88 the harbinger's cry. 

to gain their ends by the same means that are employ- 
ed by worldly men — have come to think lightly of the 
worth of the souls of men around them, and to over- 
look the immense difference between the children of 
God and the children of this world. Having thus lost 
their spiritual apprehensions, and become accustomed 
to look at things in the light of the present evil world, 
they have ceased to be faithful to their own, and the 
souls of others — or to strive to strengthen the bonds of 
union between the different members of Christ's body. 
Who does not see, that while in such a state, they are 
wholly unprepared, and indisposed to attempt to be 
prepared, for the blessings of the Saviour's gracious 
presence ? In this state, they resemble a trackless de- 
sert, through which no broad and safe highway is open- 
ed. And is this the grand reason r my brethren, why 
we are thus left? Is it, because we have sought 
to make no suitable preparation ? Let us see, 
that this cause is removed. It is becoming us to be 
of a contrite and broken heart. It agrees with our pro- 
fession and our hopes, that we feel the value and the 
peril of the sinner's soul. It belongs to our name, that 
we be fearless, and faithful, and affectionate in warning 
the ungodly of their dangers. Are we the members of 
Christ, and are we not bound together — united in holy 
living, feeling and acting ? Oh, let us awake. It is high 
time to awake. We have every conceivable induce- 
ment to awake and prepare the way of the Lord. 
When our duties are performed, we may confidently 
expect a blessing. Every thing that we can ask or de- 
sire, is promised. If the way of the Lord is not pre- 
pared — if a highway is not speedily made straight for 
him — the inevitable consequence must be, that souls 
will be lost — eternally lost ! And who is willing to have 
their blood found in his skirts ? Who is willing to meet 
at the judgment day the consequence of his refusing to 
be broken hearted before God, faithful to the souls of 
men, and cordially united with the saints in the work of 
the Lord? 



SERJNtOtf VII 



The Harbinger's Cry, addressed to Sinners. 
MA TTHEW III. 3. 

PREPARE YE THE WAY OF THE LORD, MAKE HIS PATHS STRAIGHT. 

In the case of every one, naturally, there are 
numerous obstacles in the way of his becoming a 
subject of the spiritual salvation, which Christ has 
to bestow. As they are principally such obstacles, 
as men freely and voluntarily contribute to accumu- 
late, they are such as are to be removed only by 
the willing efforts of men. It is for this reason, that 
scripture abounds with invitations, exhortations, injunc- 
tions, and commands urging men to remove whatever 
prevents their reception of saving mercy. They are 
addressed as in need of a Saviour, and as competent to 
prepare the way for the saving benefits of his redemp- 
tion to reach their hearts. The text clearly recognizes 
both these, and is a particular call to impenitent men to 
put away those evils from their ways, which hinder 
their acceptance of redeeming grace. But they, who 
have been induced to remove or surmount impediments 
in the way of their own personal interest in Christ, are 
sometimes the guilty cause of preventing the successful 
endeavors of others. They are not always careful to 
take away occasions of offence, and to do what they 
can, to give the Saviour access to the hearts of the un- 
regenerate. The duty of such persons was considered 
8* 



90 

in a former discourse from these words. It will be the 
object of the present, to point out some things which 
men in their natural state are required to do, in order 

tO PREPARE THE WAY OF THE LORD. 

Let it not be supposed, that I am about to prescribe 
to the unregenerate a long course of doings preparative 
to their reception of Christ, as a substitute for such a 
reception, or as any thing, which, for a moment, relea- 
ses them from obligations immediately to repent and 
believe. To do these, is the grand direction which the 
word of God constantly addresses to the least solici- 
tous inquiry after salvation. Until this direction is obey- 
ed, salvation must remain far from the wicked. Yet it 
must not be forgotten, that there are certain acts of the 
unconverted, which, though they are not the great and 
all-important ones of believing and turning to the Lord, 
have a connexion with these acts. So that faith and 
conversion to God are so invariably connected with 
these certain acts, as to forbid our looking for the for- 
mer, where the latter have not gone before. No one 
ever yet learned to do well, who had not ceased to do 
evil. No votary of worldly pleasure ever yet became 
a penitent believer, who had not for a considerable sea- 
son previous, renounced his low delights. No cove- 
tous worldling was ever yet converted to God, who had 
not for a time, abandoned the eager and engrossing pur- 
suit of wealth. Every truly converted drunkard, for 
weeks and months before he gave his heart to the Lord, 
gave up his intemperance. The evil speaker, who has, 
found Christ precious to his soul, had previously bri- 
dled his tongue, and ceased from the language of cal- 
umny and invective. So in all instances of true con- 
version, there is a previous relinquishment of such hab- 
its and pursuits, as are incompatible with the solicitous 
endeavors of men after salvation. This relinquishment 
is within the power of men. It is effected often where 
there is no heartfelt turning to the Lord. A visible re- 
formation in the life by no means implies, though it is 
one step in the progress towards that all-important pro- 



ADDRESSED TO SINNERS. 91 

cess, by which the Saviour becomes enthroned in the 
heart. To prepare the way, therefore, for him 
to reign there, it may be observed, 

I. That men are carefully to avoid outward sins, 
and to observe that class of visible virtues and morali- 
ties, which are more especially enjoined in the second 
table of the Decalogue. It cannot have escaped the 
notice of many of my hearers, how extensively very 
hurtful mistakes prevail in relation to the precise char- 
acter and importance of the doings of the unregenerate. 
The fact, that there is nothing meritorious in such do- 
ings, and that they can only spring from unholy motives, 
has been so stated as to lead men to conclude, that it 
would be no less auspicious to their final safety to con- 
tinue to practice known and open sins, than to avoid 
them. Because outward reformation is not inward 
spiritual conversion, and in numerous instances is not 
seen to lead to it, great numbers venture to practice on 
the dangerous inference, that they are as likely to be 
reached by converting grace in the paths of open and 
palpable sin, as in a course of outward and visible ref- 
ormation. Now such an inference is not justified by 
any correct view of the gospel. Its morality does, in- 
deed, flow from a rectified state of the heart. The acts 
it demands as connected with salvation, are those which 
proceed from the heart. But it does not offer a pre- 
mium to any form of transgression, by encouraging in 
men a persuasion, that they are as fair candidates for 
the special divine favor, while in the habitual practice 
of many obvious sins, without either watching or strug- 
gling against them, as they are, while they are endeav- 
oring to cease doing what is manifestly wrong, and at- 
tempting to do what is manifestly right. No less un- 
founded and erroneous, is such an inference as viewed 
in the light of reason. It can never be true in the na- 
ture of things, that sin leads to holiness — that the mul- 
tiplication of any acts of sin, throws no increasing bar- 
riers in the way of salvation — or that to break off from 



92 the harbinger's cry 

any obviously wrong course, does not narrow the dis- 
tance between the sinner and the Saviour. Every thing 
in the conduct of men visibly wrong, marks the estrange- 
ment of the heart from God, and goes to perpetuate that 
alienation, by rendering the heart less and less sensible 
to the sway of holy motives. In regard to the compar- 
ative importance of a right state of the heart, and a right 
course of visible conduct, there can be no question ; 
nor can there be any doubt, but that the best and most 
effectual way to render the outward life unexceptiona- 
ble, is to make the heart right. But yet a solicitous 
concern to make clean the outside of the cup and of the 
platter, by no means implies or requires, that this exte- 
rior purity of conduct, is to be made a substitute for a 
reformation of the heart. In the case of the scribes and 
pharisees, it was, indeed, thus substituted ; and in all 
such instances it must prove ruinous. But such a sub- 
stitution, if it be more common, is certainly not more 
fatal, than to plead an absorbing attention to the sinful- 
ness of the heart, and an engrossing concern to promote 
inward sanctity, as an apology and reason for inatten- 
tion and insensibility to the sinfulness of the conduct. 
The one is as much in the way of the Saviour's reign- 
ing in the hearts of men as the other. The grand point, 
then, which I wish, in the first place, to urge on the 
minds of all, who are not yet in a state of salvation, is 
that in order that the way of the Lord be prepared, and 
his holy dominion established in their hearts, they must 
conform their visible conduct to the requisitions of evan- 
gelical morality. Let him that steals, steal no more. 
Let him that is addicted to the sins of profaneness, of 
falsehood, or of slander, henceforth keep his lips as with 
a bridle. Let him who is dishonest in his dealings^ 
from this moment, be scrupulously upright and equita- 
ble in all his business transactions. Let him who seeks 
to live in pleasure, indulging in the not to be named 
abominations of the flesh, immediately withdraw his feet 
from this way to hell, going down to the chambers of death, 



ADDRESSED TO SINNERS. 93 

Let him that allows himself to be made drunken or rich, 
by tasting, or making, or vending intoxicating liquors, 
instantly cease to taste or touch these waters of death. 
Let him that is engaged in any pursuits, in which it is 
impossible for him to keep a conscience void of offence, 
unhesitatingly hazard the consequences of speedily aban- 
doning them. In a word, whatever visible iniquities 
any one is practising, let them be at once and forever 
put away. Until this is done, nothing is done to pre- 
pare the way or the Lord — to make the crooked 
straight, and the rough places plain. Deep gulfs of 
pollution, and mountains of sins, lie between the sinner 
and the Saviour, while such palpable transgressions are 
perpetuated. 

II. Solemn and interested attention to the things of 
God and the soul, is necessary to prepare the way for 
the Saviour to become enthroned in the hearts of men. 
With the more serious and considerate among those, 
who live estranged from God and in the rejection of 
Christ, the attention given to these things, is far from 
being constant and solicitous. While with a large pro- 
portion of men, the mind is never thoroughly aroused, 
and the thoughts are rarely, if ever, strongly drawn to 
these momentous subjects. The preacher, who is in 
any considerable degree affected by a view of the con- 
dition of the impenitent, and addresses them with a ten- 
der earnestness, prompted by his lively impressions, is a 
highly privileged individual, if one in twenty of his hear- 
ers, is induced to contemplate with suitable solemnity 
and concern his character, relations, and prospects. In 
the ordinary circumstances of our congregations, only 
here and there one can be found, who searches the 
scriptures in private, or listens to the preached word 
in public, as he would search for hid treasures, or heed 
a voice from heaven. Compared with the concern 
which other things awaken, and with the attention be- 
stowed on the interests of a day, God, and the soul, and 
eternity, are things of no account. The merest trifles 



94 the harbinger's cry 

of an hour, are seen to possess more power to take off 
the mind — more attractions to engage and interest the 
heart, and more control over the movements and con- 
duct of life, than these. It is quite possible, that I 
may be speaking before some, who, for a whole year, 
have not given so much as a single hour to serious 
thoughts of God. Perhaps, God has not been in all 
their thoughts. Nor let it be imagined, that inattention 
to these things of such high and ever-during moment, 
has been necessary — that men have not power to con- 
trol their thoughts and give. them to any subject they 
may choose. There is no necessity in this case, but 
that which is created by that depraved bias and taste of 
heart, which constitutes the very essence of sin. Sin- 
ners can as readily think of God, as any other object, 
if they will. It is impossible by any specious sophistry 
to argue ourselves out of the instinctive impression, that 
We can, if we please, attend to things so spiritual, sol- 
emn, and momentous, as the infinite God, the undying 
soul, and the scenes of its coming destiny. Sinners 
have done this with feelings of overwhelming interest 
and solemnity. Jill have done it, who are now, either 
in a state of acceptance, and progressive sanctification 
on earth, or in a state of rewards and endless glorifica- 
tion in heaven. And all must do it, who shall hereafter 
become savingly interested in Jesus Christ. This ap- 
pears evident from the manner in which men are urged 
to do it, throughout the scriptures. Heartfelt and earn- 
est attention to these things, is urged with much the 
same force and frequency, as repentance and faith. In- 
deed, it is difficult to conceive, how a rational being, 
in any measure familiar with the general statements of 
scripture, respecting man, his character, and his obliga- 
tions, can expect to be restored to the everlasting favor 
and friendship of God through Jesus Christ, without 
making the character, the law, and government of God, 
the object of deep and solemn thought. Who can hope 
to be saved without thinking of the Holy One against 



ADDRESSED TO SINNERS. 95 

whom they have rebelled, of his perfect law which they 
have broken, of the curse under which they conse- 
quently lie, of the soul, its pollutions, and its sins, and 
of the Saviour, his matchless condescension and his 
love ? And who, it may be asked, can habitually cher- 
ish thoughts on themes so momentous, and remain in- 
different to their coming destiny, or inactive in working 
out their salvation ? There is something in the engross- 
ing contemplation of such things, adapted to open the 
hearts of men to the grace of Christ. When men be- 
gin to think deeply, and with personal concern on top- 
ics like these, they begin to prepare the way or the 
Lord. The mountains begin to sink, and the valleys 
begin to rise. Something is done towards making 
straight in the desert of their dark and desolate souls, 
a highway for their God and Saviour. 

III. In order that the Saviour may come and es- 
tablish his dominion in the hearts of men, they must 
abandon their self confident prejudices. Scarcely any 
thing has contributed so widely to prevent the saving 
benefits of the gospel reaching men, as their imbibed 
and inveterately cherished prejudices. No other cause 
had so fearful an agency as this, in leading the nation 
of the Jews contemporary with the Saviour, with one 
consent to despise and reject him. They had formed 
their notions of the Messiah according to their low and 
worldly views, and no clearness of scriptural represen- 
tations, and no proof of his Mesiahship, though of the 
strongest and most convincing character, was sufficient 
to conquer their prejudices, and induce them to recede 
from an attitude of stern and obstinate hostility to his 
lowly person and peaceful spiritual kingdom. Prejudi- 
ces of a similar nature, and no less ruinous in their in- 
fluence, continue to prevail. Few are so happy as to 
come to the earnest examination of Christianity wholly 
free from them. Notions of religion early formed un- 
der the influence of partial views, a wrong bias, or un- 
happy associations, abide with many as they grow up 



96 the harbinger's cry 

into life, and operate most powerfully to hinder the re- 
ception of the truth as it is in Jesus. The naturally 
vitiated moral temper of the human mind, prepares men 
to surrender themselves almost without debate or in- 
quiry, to some of the worst prejudices that ever gain an 
ascendency over us. They who have been accustom- 
ed to hear the most spiritual and humbling doctrines of 
the gospel treated with levity, ridicule or contempt, by 
such as they had learned to respect, must be remarka- 
ble instances of the power of truth and conscience, if 
the maturer judgment and decisions on the subject, are 
not shaped by such representations. There are those 
who are strongly, if not irrecoverably, enlisted against 
experimental piety, from having been so circumstanced 
as often to hear its weaker, less cultivated, less judicious, 
or less spiritual advocates and professors, represent its 
nature, and state its leading doctrines. Such prejudi- 
ces against the religion of the heart, often prevail in the 
minds of men without any assignable cause. Sometimes 
being conceived against the professor or the preacher 
of the gospel, not on account of what he professes or 
preaches, they become readily transferred to his religion 
and effectually shield them from all its saving influence. 
They exclude the blessed Saviour from a place in their 
hearts, because their hearts have become prejudiced and 
embittered against such as profess to love hini and at- 
tempt to preach him. Nor must it be forgotten, that 
men are naturally so proud, and unhumbled, so averse 
to the purity and the self-denial, which the religion of 
the gospel requires, that they often become deeply pre- 
judiced against it, not on account of the imperfect rep- 
resentation of it by its hopeful subjects, but on account 
of what it is in itself — on account of its own holy and 
heavenly nature. Now could the prejudiced only see 
the precise tendency and influence of their prejudice 
against religion — how it does not alter religion or ren- 
der it the less indispensable — how it does not harm its 
humble professors or render them less safe and happy ; 



ADDRESSED TO SINNERS. 97 

but how it acts with a most disastrous power upon 
themselves — making them measurably wretched now, 
and immeasurably so hereafter ; could they see all this, 
even self-interest might lead them to abandon it. At 
any rate, however it has arisen, its tendency is the same, 
their duty and their interest are the same. 'I bey need 
to feel the purifying and sustaining power of vital piety. 
They need to have Christ, the Lord, fix his holy and- 
peaceful dominion in their souls. But their self-confi- 
dent prejudice forbids his reign there. It lifts mountain 
barriers against his approach. It must be abandoned 
before the king of glory can come in, and dwell, and 
rule in them. 

IV. To PREPARE THE WAY OF THE LORD, it is ne- 

cessary that sinners should gain humbling and alarm- 
ing apprehensions of their guilty, needy, and helpless 
condition. The grand requisite to the reception of 
evangelical blessings — of Christ and his salvation, is a 
soul prostrated in view of its sins, alarmed in view of 
its danger, and earnest in view of its helplessness and 
its wants. Every sinner, with just and full views of his 
condition, will become humbled, anxious, and earnest. 
Men are naturally proud. Pride is the. reigning and ru- 
ining sin in ungodly men. It renders men totally unfit 
for the blessings of salvation, and obstinately averse to 
the way in which these blessings come to men. It pre- 
vents their giving any thing like deep and anxious atten- 
tion to the doctrines, the duties, and the privileges of 
the gospel. It is the element in which are generated 
those blind and self-confident prejudices, that so widely 
prevail and so fatally mislead sinners. But let a man 
once gain a view of himself as he is exhibited in the 
word of God — let him behold his sins and guiltiness as 
they are presented in the light of the divine law, and he 
will sink into the dust. Thus contemplating himself, 
he who before scarcely supposed he had any sin, will 
now perceive that he has nothing else. He who before, 
fancied heaven was his just due, will now feel that he 



98 the harbinger's cry 

deserves nothing but hell. He who before was asha- 
med to be thought serious, and despised the idea of be- 
ing concerned about the welfare of the soul, will now, 
as he beholds himself in a perfect mirror, become un- 
affectedly solemn, oppressed with a sense of danger, 
and anxious above all things to find a refuge for his soul. 
Once rich in his fancied goodness, he now feels in want 
of all things. Once strong in his own untried and un- 
measured energies, he now feels powerless and without 
strength. Once he thought he could rise to heaven 
without the gracious aid of its Eternal King, now he 
knows that it is of the Lord's mercies, that he is every 
moment kept out of hell. Such is the nature of the 
great and decisive revolution in the moral views and 
feelings of men, which prepares the way for the Saviour 
to come and establish his kingdom in their souls. The 
way is prepared for him to come and reign in them, 
when they are prepared to receive him. He is always 
ready to appear for their deliverance and salvation. 
He is even continually waiting to set up the kingdom of 
heaven in their souls. When they are alarmed, the 
mountains tremble. When they are humble, the moun- 
tains flow down. When they sink under a sense of 
guilt and helplessness, the valleys rise. When with the 
promptings of perishing want and the ardor of confident 
trust, they earnestly seek his grace, the crooked is made 
straight and the rough places plain, and the glory of 
the Lord is revealed in their spiritual emancipation, tri- 
umphant hope, and peaceful joy. 

Such are some of the things indispensably necessary 
to prepare men for the reception of salvation. They 
must cease to do what is manifestly wrong, and begin to 
do what is obviously right, in the transactions of life. 
They must turn their minds with solemn earnestness to 
the consideration of the truths of God. They must aban- 
don their unreasonable and self-confident prejudices. 
And they must come to entertain humbling and alarming 



ADDRESSED TO SINNERS. 99 

apprehensions of their sinful, needy, and helpless con- 
dition. In view of what has been said, I remark, 

1 . That if the abandonment of whatever is confessedly 
and visibly sinful in outward conduct is necessary to 
prepare the way of the Lord to come and reign in 
men, must it not follow that many professed christians 
have never truly yielded to his dominion ? That not a few 
are only professedly, nominally, or speculatively chris- 
tians ? " You must," says one, " he quite familiar with 
the melancholy spectacle of a zealous professor, mourn- 
ing over the sinfulness of his heart, and at the same 
time putting forth his hand without one sigh of remorse 
to what is sinful in ordinary conduct. Have you never 
witnessed one who could speak evil of his neighbor, 
and was at the same time trenched among what he 
thought the speculations of orthodoxy, and made the 
utter corruption of the soul of man one of these specu- 
lations ? Is it not very plain, we may ask, that persons 
who are in the church, who are pressed about with the 
motives of the gospel, who are obliged to view things 
in the light of God's word, and who yet can go on from 
year to year to do almost daily what, in the case of an 
awakened sinner, would destroy all confidence in the 
sincerity and honesty of his avowed solicitude after the 
way of life. I say — is it not clear as noon day, that 
such persons in the church are in the gall of bitterness ? 
They have not learnt to practice the first lesson in the 
school of Christ. They have not taken the first step 
towards heaven. So far from having learned to do well, 
they have not yet ceased to do what is notoriously and 
undeniably evil. Such persons may be deceived. But 
if they are, they have the power of imposing on them- 
selves, which they have not of imposing on others. 
They ought to remember, that if they are deceived, 
they stand alone in the deception, and are hastening to 
bear alone the terrible consequences of denying their 
profession by their works. 



100 THE HARBINGER'S CRY 

2. So long as sinners neglect to prepare the way 
for the reign of the Saviour in their souls, they are di- 
rectly contributing to prepare themselves to be lost. — 
Men cannot avoid doing good or evil. They must be 
occupied in effecting their own salvation or in achiev- 
ing their own destruction. As certain as men are mor- 
al agents, destined to endless retribution, so surely are 
they busily engaged in gathering energies and feather- 
ing their pinions to mount up with wings as eagles — to 
run and not be weary, to walk and not faint. Or they 
are no less engrossed in the frightful service of wasting 
their powers, and accumulating about their souls those 
oppressive burdens, which will weigh them down forev- 
er in the prison of despair. You, my hearers, who are 
yet strangers to the grace of Christ, are interposing ob- 
stacles to exclude that grace from your souls. Will 
you continue this ruinous work ? You see what is ne- 
cessary to be done. You know you can do all that is 
necessary to be done, if you will wake up your minds 
and give your energies to the great concern. You 
know in yourselves, that you can break off from doing 
all that is obviously wrong in outward conduct, and turn 
to doing all that is obviously right. You are conscious 
of an ability to make the subject of your duty and your 
eternal safety, the object of your deep, solemn and con- 
tinued regard. You are capable of escaping from the 
blinding and perverting influence of unreasonable preju- 
dices, 7 and judging and acting independent of their pow- 
er. You can earnestly seek to attain just and hum- 
bling views of your condition ; such views as will 
make you feel your need of a Saviour, and dispose you 
to place yourselves in the way of his mercy. Now if 
all this is true, who will be to blame if you are not sav- 
ed ? Who will be the guilty cause of your ruin, if you 
are forever lost? Must not the blame and the guilt 
come upon your own heads? If you will not do what 
you can to make straight a high way for the Saviour to 
your souls — if you will not prepare for his reception 



ADDRESSED TO SINNERS. 101 

as Ms character and your wants demand — -must not your 
conscience now and forever reproach you for your cruel 
and murderous treatment of your own souls ? Be per- 
suaded to do your duty. Lift up the everlasting door? 
of your hearts, and the King of Glory shall come in ! 



9* 



SERJflOX VIII 



Ends accomplished by Christ's Sacrifice. 



TITUS II. 14. 

WHO GATE HIMSELF FOR US, THAT HE MIGHT REDEEM US FROM 
ALL INIQUITY, AND PURIFY UNTO HIMSELF A PECULIAR PEO- 
PLE ZEALOUS OF GOOD WORKS. 



The only true religion for fallen beings, must pos- 
sess marks of manifest adaptedness to their condition. 
Such a religion must recognize the dependance and the 
guilt of man. It must show his depraved appetites and 
passions, his inability by his unaided endeavors to be- 
come virtuous, and the adequate remedy provided for 
these evils. It must admit his greatness and his mean- 
ness — his glory and his wretchedness. It must repre- 
sent him as at once the most excellent of all visible 
creatures, and in himself the most miserable. Now 
such a religion — a religion consisting in the belief of 
man's fall from a state of glory and communion with 
God into a state of guilt, sorrow, and alienation from 
God, and of his subsequent restoration by a Saviour, 
has always existed in the world. Amidst the incessant 
tide of change and decay, in which almost every thing 
else has passed away, this, for which all other things ex- 
ist, still alone abides unaltered. It is the religion of the 
gospel. It has been handed down through successive 
generations by holy men, who stood forth the witnesses 
to the truth, and depositaries of the promise of a Sa- 



ENDS ACCOMPLISHED, &C. 103 

viour. Since his advent, and sufferings, the religion of 
which he is the author and end, in the midst of innu- 
merable errors, divisions, revolutions, and vicissitudes, 
to which the condition of man is subject, has subsisted 
uninterrupted — undecayed. Opposition the most vio- 
lent and unrelenting has not been able to destroy it from 
among men. And it is not the least remarkable feature 
of its history, that while it is the only religion that is con- 
trary to our fallen nature, that resists our pleasurable 
inclinations, and, indeed, is at variance with the general 
opinion of mankind, it is the only one that has perpetu- 
ally subsisted. Though it has been burned in the fires 
of a thousand persecutions, it has not been consumed. 

The marks of this only true religion, are continually 
presented on the pages of the bible. There is a sum- 
mary view of them, incidentally given in the text. What 
majesty and meanness, what dignity and debasement, 
what glory and misery, does human character wear, as 
contemplated in the light of this statement ! How sub- 
lime the destiny of beings, that drew the interested re- 
gard and secured the intervention of the Son of God in 
their behalf. How deep their degradation, how help- 
less their ruin, how utter their wretchedness, which ex- 
acted such a stoop of humiliation in the Saviour ; which 
required him to descend so low and to suffer so much. 
On what a scale of worth is the human soul measured 
by the redeeming act of our Redeemer God ! How 
heavy and strong the chains, which he alone could break, 
and from the bondage of which his own blood alone 
could redeem ! 

But not to dwell longer on this point, I propose to 
detain you for a short time with a more particular con- 
sideration and enforcement of the several sentiments of 
the text. 

The point of view in which the Saviour is here pre- 
sented, is one in which it is ever deeply interesting, in- 
structive, and affecting to contemplate him. He is here 
seen in his appropriate character of Redeemer. We 



104 ENDS ACCOMPLISHED 

here behold him in the attitude of devoting himself to 
the amazing work of human redemption. He gave 
himself. We may view him, either far back in the 
ages of eternity, when in the counsels of Heaven he of- 
fered himself for the stupendous undertaking of rescu- 
ing a guilty race from merited ruin and wretchedness, 
or when in the fulness of time, he entered upon the 
mighty enterprize. In either case, we see him cheer- 
fully consenting to meet the terrible array of foes and 
frowns, of sorrows and sufferings, which were in the way 
of the momentous achievement. When he gave himself, 
he did it, not as we sometimes give ourselves to the 
pursuit of an object, with only some general and indis- 
tinct apprehensions of the efforts, the labors, the trials, 
and pains it may cost us, but with a full and accurate 
view of every step, every event, and every pang invol- 
ved in the work. He did not give himself to it, hoping 
that the task might be easy, and the conflicts few ; but 
he did it knowing that it must occasion him untold 
suffering. Standing on the watch tower of eternity, and 
beholding all time and its events, he offered himself a 
willing sacrifice for the sins of the world. He gave 
himself to be poor and destitute, not having where to 
lay his head — to be despised and rejected of men — to be 
buffeted and spit upon, to be scourged and crowned with 
thorns — to be deserted and frowned upon by his heav- 
enly Father — to be falsely accused, unjustly condemn- 
ed, and cruelly and wantonly deprived of life by the 
protracted agonies of crucifixion. He gave his own 
holy, sinless soul to be made a sin-offering for a world 
of transgressors. He gave himself to be denied, be- 
trayed, and abandoned by his own followers to the bru- 
tal rage of excited enemies. Ah ! He gave himself 
to feel a world's guilt pressing on his innocent soul. 

Our Saviour devoted himself to this work cheerfully, 
freely, without constraint. This gift being sometimes 
spoken of as the gift of the Father, and sometimes as 
the gift of the Son, teaches us, 'that the Son and the 



105 

Father are one. What the one gives, the other gives 
also. This mode of speaking is peculiar to the scrip- 
tures, and to this single subject. When we read, that 
Jesus Christ, who is God's unspeakable gift, gave him- 
self, laid down his own life and took it again, we must 
conclude, that one passage of scripture plainly contra- 
dicts the other, or that God the Father, and the Lord 
Jesus Christ, are alike the supreme God. But who 
will charge the word of unerring truth with contradict- 
ing itself? It is the wordof Him who cannot lie. This 
kind of proof is irresistible. The conclusion that Christ 
is God, is inevitable. Indeed, y \he very passage we are 
considering stands in immediate connexion with one, 
which is generally understood to declare the same great 
truth. I will repeat it. Looking for that blessed hope, 
and the glorious appearing of the great God, even our 
Saviour Jesus Christ, Who gave himself for us, 

THAT HE MIGHT REDEEM US FROM ALL INIQUITY, AND 
PURIFY UNTO HIMSELF A PECULIAR PEOPLE ZEALOUS OF 
GOOD WORKS. 

We have seen the manner in which the divine Saviour 
gave himself ; it concerns us now to notice for what end 
he made this sublime consecration — this infinite sacri- 
fice. He gave himself for us. Every child of 
Adarn can, with the, utmost propriety and truth, say — 
The Saviour gave himself for me. He tasted death 
for every man. Every man is alike in need of spiritual 
[redemption. The ransom requisite for the redemption 
of one, is adequate to the redemption of the whole of 
our species. The Apostle used this language in writing 
to a christian brother. And there is doubtless a pecu- 
liar sense, in which this may be said of true christians. 
They are partakers of his redemption. But he gave 
himself a ransom for all. The special and personal 
benefits of his redemption, are, however, limited to peni- 
tent believers. They alone really seek and desire these 
benefits. He gave himself for such — he in some 
sort, assumed their condition — placed himself in their 



106 ENDS ACCOMPLISHED 

stead — became subject to their accidents as transgres- 
sors. He was cut off, but not for himself. He suffer- 
ed, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to 
God. He was made sin for us— an offering and a sac- 
rifice for sin ; that we might be made the righteousness 
of God in hi?n. That is, that in him we might show the 
nature, the extent, and the righteousness of the divine 
requirements. Or that we might by the grace of God 
be freely justified, through the redemption there is in 
him. 

It is observable, that there are two principal ends at- 
tained in respect to sincere believers, by Christ's giving 
himself for them. These are distinctly noticed in the 
text. The first is redemption from all iniquity. By 
this we are to understand their exemption from the 
curse of transgression, as well as their ultimate deliver- 
ance from the impurity and power of all sin. He bore 
that curse. He suffered the penalty of God's violated 
law. This is what is meant by the expressions — He 
bore our sins in his own body on the tree — On him was 
laid the iniquity of us all. In consequence of his suf- 
ferings and death, believers shall not suffer the just de- 
serts of their sins. They shall not come into condem- 
nation, but are passed from death unto life. They are 
justified from all those things, from which they could 
not be justified by the moral law. If the question ari- 
ses in any mind, how the sufferings of Christ can avail 
to redeem men from the penalty of sin, the only answer 
is, that God has declared that they are available to this 
end. This ought to satisfy us. It is enough for us to 
know with certainty that such is the fact. It is accord- 
ing to the constitution of God's spiritual kingdom, that 
the sufferings and death of Christ shall infallibly secure 
from final suffering, all who repent and believe in him. 
Without this very equivalent, we are impliedly assured, 
that God could not be just in pardoning a single trans- 
gression. Though the divine declarations on this point 
ought to be satisfactory, and will be so to all well djs- 



SACRIFICE. 107 

posed minds, yet we are not forbidden to seek for an 
answer to this question, in the propriety and suitableness 
of this grand feature in God's gracious economy. A 
reason for the avail ableness of the Saviour's sufferings 
in redeeming sinners from the penalty of transgression, 
may be found in the infinite dignity of his person. He 
was God that suffered, though not as God. The acts 
and properties of either nature, are attributable to his 
person. We are also told, that God purchased his 
church with is own blood ; — that is, with the blood 
shed by him who was God manifest in the flesh. There 
could be no merit in the sufferings of a mere creature, 
which could avail to prevent the deserved suffering of 
of a fellow creature. But when we are told, that the 
great God our Saviour gave himself for. us, that 

HE MIGHT REDEEM US FROM ALL INIQUITY. We may 

discern a reasonableness — a fitness in that act being 
available in behalf of transgressors. 

But the redemption of Christ extends farther, than 
to the removal of the penal curse of transgression. It 
is an ultimate deliverance from all the defilement and 
sway of sin. It would be a limited and imperfect re- 
demption indeed, that leaves its subjects still wearing 
the chains, and still wallowing in the pollution of sin. 
A glorious perfection and completeness pervades the 
economy of grace. The gracious gift of a Saviour to 
turn away from sinners the avenging sword of divine 
justice, brings with it an influence, which gradually ex- 
tinguishes the dominion of sin in the believer's soul. 
The Saviour did not finish his work, until he had re- 
ceived of the Father the promise of the Holy Ghost; 
nor did he ascend to resume his seat at the right hand 
of the Majesty on high, without shedding forth the sa- 
cred influence upon the world he had redeemed with 
his blood. This was the great gift he received for men, 
when leading captivity captive he ascended on high. 
This perpetuates and perfects the work he undertook. 
Thus by his once offering himself, he hath perfected for- 



108 ENDS ACCOMPLISHED 

ever them that are sanctified. That is, he has secured 
their emancipation from the guilt and the power of sin. 
This leads me to consider the other principal end 
attained in respect to real believers by the offering of 
Christ, to wit — their sanctification. To purify unto 
himself a peculiar people. The blessed agent by 
w T hom this work is accomplished, has already been men- 
tioned. But it is important that we should remember, 
that the kingdom of grace is a kingdom of means adap- 
ted to certain high and glorious ends. Now the means 
by which the Holy Spirit effects the sanctification of 
believers, are those very truths and doctrines involved 
in the great subject of redemption — the doctrines of 
the cross. In the scriptures the sacrifice or the blood 
of Christ, is sometimes spoken of as the procuring cause 
of our justification, and sometimes, as the means of our 
sanctification. Much more being justified by his blood, 
we shall be saved from wrath through him. Here the 
blood or offering of Christ, denotes the merits of his 
atonement. But there are other passages in which the 
blood of Christ, by which we are redeemed, is spoken 
of as the means of our sanctification. How much more 
shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spir- 
it, offered himself without spot unto God, purge your 
consciences from dead works to serve the living God. 
The saints in heaven are represented as walking in 
white, because they had washed their robes in the blood 
of the Lamb. Now the term blood when used in this 
figurative sense, evidently means the doctrines of the 
cross, which are the great means of purifying the be- 
liever's heart. Ye are clean, said the Saviour to his 
disciples, through the word which I have spoken unto 
you. A belief of the great doctrine, that the Lord Je- 
sus Christ gave himself for us to redeem us from all 
iniquity, is the means by which the Holy Spirit promotes 
the sanctification of all who believe. Nor, is it believ- 
ed, throughout the whole range of thought, considera- 
tions can be found so strongly urging the crucifixion of 



109 

sin and the cultivation of inward purity, as those which 
are connected with the Saviour's sufferings and cruci- 
fixion. Who that truly believes the declaration in the 
text, that Christ the Lord of glory, gave himself for 

US, THAT HE MIGHT REDEEM US FROM ALL INIQUITY, 

can persevere in the practice of known sin ? No one. 
The thing is impossible. Has all heaven been moved 
to effect my redemption from sin ? Has the Holy Lamb 
of God shed his life blood to wash away my sin and 
cleanse my polluted soul ? And can I any longer har- 
bor in my bosom the accursed thing ? Is sin such a 
tremendous evil, that so much suffering was cheerfully 
encountered by the Saviour, in order to banish it from 
among men, and shall I shrink from any self-denial and 
pain, that may be involved in successfully resisting its 
sway and extinguishing its reign in my own mind and 
heart ? 

" Shall I not hate those lusts of mine 

That crucified ray God ? 
Those sins that pierced and nailed his flesh 

Fast to the fatal wood ? 
Yes ! my Redeemer, they shall die — 

My heart has so decreed — 
Nor will I spare the guilty things, 

That made my Saviour bleed." 

Let us now consider, for a moment, the character of 
those who become the partakers of the redemption 
there is in Christ. In moral purity they are assimila- 
ted to Christ. They are purified unto himself. 
They are not only pardoned, but they are purified — 
not only freed from guilt and condemnation, but from 
the present uncontrolled and unweakened dominion of 
their inherent depravity. They are a peculiar peo- 
ple. Not in the bare outward circumstantials of their 
condition. Not in their dress, not in their language, 
not in their religious ceremonies. In these and many 
other respects they may continue undistinguished from 

10 



110 ENDS ACCOMPLISHED 

their surrounding fellow men. But they are peculiar 
in the character of their views of things. They see the 
world lying in wickedness. They see its fashion pass- 
ing away. They see its grand pursuits ending in van- 
ity and vexation, or tending to ruin. They see that 
there is not a spot beneath the skies on which they can 
safely rest. They see that there is nothing true* no- 
thing abiding, nothing safe, nothing sustaining to the 
deathless mind, but the unchangeable God, and his 
work. They are peculiar in the character of their taste. 
They have lost their former original relish for objects 
and enterprises exclusively worldly. They pursue the 
business of the world as a duty, but it does not engross 
their chief affections, it does not bury their hearts be- 
neath its rubbish, it does not take away the active fac- 
ulties of the soul from higher and more congenial pur- 
suits. Their hearts are on the glories and blessedness 
of heaven. And thither tend their warmest desires, 
their holiest aspirations- With their new taste of mind 
they could not be entirely blessed in such a world as 
this. They could not find beneath the skies objects 
sufficiently pure and elevated, to engage their refined 
and expansive sympathies. 

Again, they are a peculiar people in the source 
and origin of their new spiritual existence. They are 
born from above. They are partakers of the divine 
nature and image. Their views, tastes, and feelings 
are the result of a special divine influence that reached, 
and exerted a transforming efficacy on the faculties of 
their moral nature. They have not made themselves 
what they are, but Christ has redeemed them, and 

PURIFIED THEM UNTO HIMSELF A PECULIAR PEOPLE. 

They are distinguished from the rest of the world by 
the fact that Christ has a peculiar property in them. 
They are his in a peculiar sense. As new creatures in 
him they are his workmanship. He has wrought all 
their work in them. Every holy disposition — every 



BY CHRIST S SACRIFICE. Ill 

right affection, every spiritual desire within them, is 
planted there by his own gracious power. He has 
written on them a new name. He has impressed on 
them a measure of his own image. So that they are 
no longer their own, but his. He loves them with a 
peculiar, an everlasting love. He watches over them 
with unremitted interest. He is concerned to keep 
them from falling, and to present them faultless before 
the presence of his glory with exceeding joy. Oh ! there 
are none of the creatures of his power in whom the Sa- 
viour has such a property — so much interest, as in his 
own redeemed and purified people. For they are for- 
ever to bear his image and to reflect his glory. It 
should be added as another feature in their character, 
that they are zealous of good works. By their zeal 
in doing good, no less than by the grace that purifies 
and makes them so, they are distinguished from all oth- 
er men. They are zealous however, in quite a dif- 
ferent sense from that in which mere religionists are 
zealous. It is not a zeal without knowledge, that wastes 
itself on profitless objects. It is not a zeal that burns 
only when fanned by opposition. It is not a zeal that 
measures its purity and value by its indiscriminate vio- 
lence. Nor is it a zeal confined to the promotion of 
some narrow and party ends. But it is a zeal to do 
good on the broad scale of a universal benevolence. 
It triumphs over all the little barriers that names, and 
forms, and modes in religion create. It stops not at 
ordinary impediments. It disregards trouble, expense, 
self-denial, and suffering in its steady, cheerful, and un- 
blenching pursuit of its high and comprehensive ends. 
It takes delight in obedience, quietly awaits for occa- 
sions, and gladly embraces opportunities of communi- 
cating good. Its everlasting motives which prompt to 
every good word and work, are regard to the glory of 
Christ and love to mankind. Such are the people who 
are truly redeemed by the blood of Christ. They are 



112 ENDS ACCOMPLISHED 






a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, 

A PECULIAR PEOPLE, ZEALOUS OF GOOD WORKS. 

It is scarcely possible, that any of us who have a 
hope of an interest in the purchased redemption of 
Christ, should be fully aware of the force and direct- 
ness with which this subject addresses itself to us. 
Did Christ indeed, give himself for us ? Then how 
lost was our original condition — how profound the 
wretchedness and ruin into which we were sunk — how 
deep the stains of pollution and guilt that adhered to 
our souls. Did the great God our Saviour give him- 
self for us ? Then what grandeur and debasement, 
what misery and glory, what heights and depths, min- 
gle in our character and condition. 

How rich, how poor, how abject, how august, 
How complicate, how wonderful are we. 

How passing wonder he, who has become a Saviour 
in every conceivable point adapted to our double con- 
dition of greatness and meanness, and who has given us 
a gospel that reaches our extremest exigences — that is 
a complete remedy for all the evil we can feel or fear ! 
Did the blessed Saviour give himself for us ? Then, 
indeed, what strength of obligation, binds us to him and 
his cause. Then, indeed, is it too much for us to give 
away our poor, wretched, ruined selves to him ? Tell 
me, ye ransomed ones — ye, to whom redeeming love 
has come with present peace, and pledges of eternal 
and imperishable crowns of glory, is it too much for 
you to bind yourselves with bonds of unalterable and 
everlasting affection to his person and his kingdom. 
And ye, who wait this solemn, joyful hour, to make a 
public surrender of yourselves to him, do you not crave 
some worthier offering for your Lord ? Do you not 
want a thousand hearts and a thousand lives to give him 
who has given you a new heart, and the life of God in 
your souls. But he is graciously pleased to accept the 
heart. Give it then — give it entirely — give it eternally. 



BY CHitlST*S SACRIFICE. 113 

But may I not ask, what christians are they, who 
hope they are redeemed, and yet practise iniquity ? 
To love and live in sin, is to trample under foot redeem- 
ing blood — is to despise and reject its sole benefit and 
efficacy. Ah, such nominal christians, are not, can- 
not be spiritual, purified christians. 

10* 






SERMON IX. 



Value and Test of Christ's Friendship. 

JOHN XV. 14. 

YE ARE MY FRIENDS, IF YE DO WHATSOEVER I COMMAND YOU. 

There is a sentiment somewhere expressed in poe- 
try, which, when I formerly read it, impressed me as 
singularly just and affecting. The beautiful language 
in which it was clothed, has too far escaped my recol- 
lection to be now repeated ; but the idea as imperfectly 
recalled, may be thus given : — " Where shall I find a 
friend whose merits will never disappoint, and whose 
love will never forsake me ? I have surveyed the world, 
and sought where my affections might repose. But 
some have forgotten me, some have proved faithless to 
my hopes, and some have been torn from me by death. 
Oh, my Saviour, thou remainest always true, and for- 
ever present with me." The person who made this 
complaint, doubtless, only expressed the language of 
his own personal experience. He may have professed 
a quickness of sensibility, a refinement of delicacy, and 
a propensity to sadness, which render it difficult for 
many fully to sympathize with him. And yet there is 
a truth and dignity in the sentiment he utters, which 
must reach and commend itself to the bosoms of near- 
ly all. Few are the privileged ones, if, indeed, it be a 
privilege to escape the sorrows and sufferings of mor- 
tality, who have reached even the midway stage of hu- 



VALUE AND TEST, &C. 115 

man life, without meeting enough to teach them what 
it is to lose friends, and how desirable it is to have one 
at least that can never be lost. It seems to be one great 
aim in the divine allotments towards men in the present 
life, to teach them the latter of these lessons, by bring- 
ing them often and in various afflictive ways to experi- 
ence the former. For this end he leaves the most per- 
fect human characters very far from perfection here, 
and the most certain earthly things altogether uncertain » 
Could all the excellent of the earth who have ever yet 
lived upon it, be gathered in one group before the mind, 
not one among the whole would be found, in whose 
character there would not be presented even to the im- 
perfect scrutiny of which we are capable, sufficient to 
enforce with great emphasis, the divine exhortation to 
cease from man. For no one of them could we cherish 
that subordinate and unforbidden attachment which is 
due to a creature, with any thing like certainty, that it 
would not sooner or later be perceived to be misplaced. 
We could not know that the valued one would not at 
length forget us ; or, if not forget us, prove altogether 
faithless and unworthy of our esteem and confidence. 
We could not know, that his seeming virtues were not as- 
sumed, and that a detestable selfishness did not lurk be- 5 
neath the semblance of a generous friendship. But were 
this difficulty removed, and we might safely confide in the 
fidelity of our chosen friends, being absolutely certain of 
their friendly offices so long as they live ; yet our best 
earthly friends cannot live always. Nothing is more pre- 
carious than human life. It vanishes like the vapor. It 
flees like a shadow and continues not. Whom has not 
death robbed of a friend ? Where shall we go to find 
some one who has not suffered such a loss ? That child 
who cannot tell you, though he has experienced what a 
friend is, has suffered such a loss. He suffered it, 
perhaps, in her, who only lived to pronounce his name, 
Benoni, and to breathe one prayer, that he might have a 
name and a place in that world where sorrows are un- 



116 



VALUE AND TEST 



known. Or, perhaps he suffered it in one or both of 
that venerated pair, whom a riper piety and larger ex- 
perience, taught to watch over and cherish this second 
shoot from their now withered trunks, with a fond so- 
licitude which they felt not for their own offspring. Or, 
it may be, he suffered the loss in one, who, from the Sab- 
bath school, where she labored to nurture him for glory, 
herself has early gone to keep an eternal Sabbath ! If 
the child is no stranger to bereavements of this nature, 
how must the number of such visitations be multiplied 
in the history of those, who have reached any of the 
more advanced periods in the life of man. Persons in 
middle life can usually reckon up more, who have de- 
parted from the circle of their relatives and intimate 
friends, than now constitute that circle. While the 
aged stand almost alone and deserted, having followed 
to the grave nearly all who were their friends and neigh- 
bors in age, and place of residence. But not even this 
circumstance in human condition, presents to the full 
extent man's need of a friend who is beyond the reach 
of time, and chance, and change. What if our friends 
should abide with us to the utmost limits of our earthly 
course. We need offices of friendship which none of 
them can afford us. We have wants, which the kind- 
est friends on earth have no power to supply. These 
wants we now feel, and we shall continue to feel them 
in all their growing power forever, unless help comes 
from some friend who is as mighty as he is merciful, 
and as omniscient as he is compassionate. Thus are 
we strongly urged, and it seems manifestly the divine in- 
tention to urge us, by what we here experience of the 
fickleness and inconstancy of earthly friendships, as 
well as of the impotency of any endeavors of the most 
faithful and valued friends on earth, to do us the good 
we need, to look to Him who sticketh closer than a 
brother. 

For the same benevolent end, no doubt, God has given 
us what may be called the principle of friendship. A 



of Christ's friendship. 117 

principle, which, when contemplated in its tendency, 
strongly indicates the high original dignity and destiny 
of our being. Its influence may be perceived in fallen 
man amidst all his guilty aberrations from God. It 
prompts in his bosom the sigh for union with other intelli- 
gent beings. It impels him to seek an interchange — a 
commerce of hearts. It makes communion in sorrows 
— fellowship in sufferings, more desirable to him, than 
that state of negative being, which consists in solitary 
fruition. But though we feel the strong and incessant 
impulse of this principle, our hearts desire is never grat- 
ified, our fond dreams are never realized, nothing here 
below meets our ideas and our wishes ; human friend- 
ships and alliances more or less deceive our expecta- 
tions, and we never fully know what true friendship is, 
until we ascend to him, who has been graciously pleas- 
ed to propose to take us into a covenant of friendship 
with himself. It is a most benevolent arrangement, 
then, which in these different ways leads us to that 
friend whose excellencies and merits will more than 
equal our highest expectations, whose love will never 
forsake us, and who, while others forget or betray us, 
will never prove false, or abandon us. How blessed is 
the economy, which, in any way, brings us to that one 
friend, who in all our disappointments and sorrows is still 
near to us — whose kindness is ever most wakeful, when 
most needed, and who can neither forsake us from levi- 
ty, nor be torn away from us by death. How grateful 
may we well be, if we have been constrained by the 
bitterest disappointments and reverses, to hear the voice 
of that friend with heartfelt interest, addressing us in 
these gracious accents — Ye are my friends, if ye do 

WHATSOEVER I COMMAND YOU. 

When our Lord made this declaration to his first dis- 
ciples, he designed to assure them, and all his followers 
from age to age, that, on condition of their exhibiting 
one decisive mark of their friendship for him, they 
should be the object of his esteem and affectionate re» 



118 VALUE AND TEST 

gard. That if they were thus proved to be his friends, 
he would be theirs. Not that his acts of friendship for 
them did not precede this expression of their attach- 
ment to him. For the contrary is unquestionably true. 
Indeed, but for his previous acts of friendship for them, 
they never could have become his true followers, or 
afforded any evidence of their not being his enemies. 
Strictly speaking, his friendship had no beginning. He 
loved all his sincere followers with an everlasting love. 
But there is no evidence of this, until by obedience to 
his commandments, they prove themselves his friends. 
This seems to be implied by the expression in the text. 
It is as if he had said ; " I have ever been your friend, 
and you have good evidence that you are mine, if you 
yield a ready and cheerful obedience to what I com- 
mand you." 

Christ evinces his friendship for his followers in his 
giving himself a ransom for them. It admits of no more 
unequivocal expression than this unparalleled act. Great- 
er love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his 
life for his friends. If it be true, that all which a 
man has he will give for his life, Christ, as the son of 
man, could make no greater sacrifices. He gave all he 
had. He withheld not his life-blood, but freely poured 
it out as a ransom for the souls of men. In other in- 
stances, where one man has died in the stead of another, 
it has been by constraint. But our Sayiour acted of 
his own free choice, and with a perfect knowledge of 
all the ignominy and agonies which it would cost him, 
he cheerfully made the sacrifice. No one took his life 
from him, he laid it down of himself. Nor, as Christ 
did not give his life a mere substitute for the life of an- 
other individual, but a substitute for the life of the world, 
were the sufferings he endured in this act, the ordinary 
sufferings of a malefactor expiring on the cross. It 
were a small item in the amount of his dying agonies, 
that strictly belonged to the tortures of crucifixion. He 
hung on the cross pressed down by the sins of a world* 



119 

There were, likewise, superinduced agonies arising from 
his own exquisite sense of the malignity of sin. One 
sin was felt by him, no doubt, as a greater evil than a 
whole life of sin — a whole age of crime is, by his real 
followers. But such was his friendship for us, that he 
endured it all. That we, my brethren, might live, he 
willingly died beneath the dreadful weight of a world's 
sin, and the still more insupportable pressure of his 
Father's frowns. Surely there is good ground for the 
sustaining and cheering inference from this act of our 
Lord and Master, that he can now withhold no good 
thing from us. Had he not done this, all he could have 
done for us besides, would scarcely have included one 
real spiritual blessing ; and now that the unspeakable 
sacrifice is made, what blessings may not be expected 
from him. 

Our Saviour shows his friendship for his true disci- 
ples, in often visiting them with the best tokens of his 
presence. What he once said to his desponding dis- 
ciples in the days of his flesh, has been fulfilled in the 
case of every one of his disciples since. / will not 
leave you comfortless. I will come to you. He comes 
to them in their retired hours ; and satisfies their secret 
longings of soul. He comes to them when engaged in 
deep spiritual meditation on his word, and opens to them 
the scriptures, shedding a bright illumination over the 
sacred pages. He comes to them, when communing 
together on subjects pertaining to his kingdom, and 
their hearts begin to burn within them in fervent antici- 
pations of its extending glories. He comes to them in 
the temples of his grace, and though veiled from the 
apprehension of carnal and unbelieving minds, he man- 
ifests himself to them, makes them behold his glory and 
feel his love. Especially does he visit them at his 
table. There it is, that they most frequently obtain 
some more impressive views of his condescension and 
love, of his power and his compassion. Often at such 
seasons are they constrained to acknowledge with the 



120 VALUE AND TEST 

favored disciples on the mount of transfiguration, that it 
is good for them to be there. And they would gladly 
prolong the blessed interview. 

The special friendship of our Lord for his disciples, 
appears in his readiness ever to listen to their complaints 
and to grant their requests. Earthly friends are often 
remote from us, and cannot be made seasonably ac- 
quainted with our necessities. Or if near, they are li- 
able through selfishness or indifference, to treat our re- 
presentations of personal wants with neglect. Or should 
they be at hand and willing with heart and hand to minis- 
ter to our necessities, they may not have it in their pow T - 
erto impart to us the requisite aid. But if we are the 
friends of the Redeemer, we have ourselves a friend 
whose ear is ever open to the voice of our complaint. 
Wherever we wander, we do not go where our cry 
cannot reach his ear. He can never withhold any thing 
really good from us, because he is selfish or regardless 
of our wants. If he delays for a season to grant the 
object of our request, it is that we may be prepared to 
receive it. It is that it may come to us the good we 
crave. Most of our wants are such as he alone can 
fully know, and none but he supply. And yet if we are 
his sincere disciples, he has espoused all our great in- 
terests ; and his own glory is concerned that none of 
the great evils which we chiefly dread and most ear- 
nestly deprecate, come upon us. He is pledged by oaths 
which he himself has uttered ; he is bound by obliga- 
tions which he himself has created, to take care of us, 
to sustain us in troubles, to protect us in dangers, to di- 
rect us in difficulties, and to allow nothing seriously to 
injure our souls. As he cannot deny himself, so 
neither can he deny the petition of one who humbly 
confides in his merits. 

It is a wonderful proof of the Saviour's friendship for 
his disciples, that he bears with their sins and imperfec- 
tions, and does not, though they fall into sins, lose their 
apparent attachment to his person and kingdom, wander 



of Christ's friendship. 121 

from bis fold, and bring reproach on his cause, give 
them up to their own heart's lusts to perish in guilt and 
pollution. Were he a human friend he would do this. 
We have not a friend on earth, who would remain our 
friend a single day, were we to treat him as we are al- 
most daily treating the Saviour. No ! They would 
lose all their esteem, and cease to cherish the least af- 
fectionate regard for us. Wnen we consider how offen- 
sive to him sin must be, and when we think how odious 
it must appear to him, cherished and indulged by those 
whom he has redeemed by his blood and agonies, and 
called by his special grace ; we must see, that in sparing 
them and bearing with them, he evinces a friendship 
which has no parallel among men. While their breth- 
ren, did they know all he does of their sins and back- 
slidings in heart, would regard them as wholly unfit to 
come to his table, and be ready to exclude them from 
the church, he does not forbid their communing with 
him in the solemn ordinance of the supper, and suffers 
them to retain a reputable standing in his church. And 
he will continue to bear with them, if they have any 
spirituality of character, until, when it will redound 
most to the glory of his name and tend most to secure 
them from future relapses, that they should be made to 
see and sorrow over their guilty course, and then he 
will humble and restore them. 

Oh matchless friendship that he shows, 
To friends more guilty than his foes ! 

A delightful mark of the Lord's friendship for his peo- 
ple, may be noticed in the rich provision which he con- 
tinually furnishes to promote their increasing strength 
and progress in the divine life. He does not leave them 
when he has rescued them from destruction, but pro- 
vides for their upward march to glory. They have 
their dangerous points to pass, and he kindly meets them 
there with the requisite aid to enable them to surmount 
difficulties, and to meet dangers unharmed. He gives 

11 



122 VALUE AND TEST 

them one seventh part of the time with special and ex- 
clusive reference to this end : That then they may 
gain, as otherwise they might not, a preparation at once 
for earthly conflicts and heavenly crowns : That then 
they may have an opportunity to gird themselves anew 
with the whole armor of God, so as to be able to stand 
in the evil day : That then in retired devout medita- 
tions on heavenly things, or in public solemn and en- 
grossed attention to the ordinances of God's earthly 
temple, they may imbibe increased measures of the tem- 
per which reigns in his temple above. For the same 
great end, he has instituted the ordinance of the supper. 
Nothing is more directly suited than this to yield them 
the necessary support and encouragement in their chris- 
tian course. He in this ordinance, invites them by be- 
lieving views of his person and offices, his sacrifice and 
mediation, to nurture their spiritual man up to the 
measure of his own holy stature. He here assists their 
faith and love, and various graces, by presenting to the 
senses an emblematical representation of what he has 
felt, and undergone, and accomplished for them. He 
helps them here to perceive, through the medium of the 
senses, what, through the feebleness of their faith they 
might otherwise but dimly see, the greatness of his love, 
and the greatness of his suffering, and the greatness of 
the salvation, he has procured for them. Enough must 
be presented to them here, if not to prevent their ever 
doubting his love and power to save, yet certainly to 
lead them to say with one of his earliest followers — / 
believe, Lord, help thou mine unbelief. 

Finally, it is an affecting token of our Lord's friend- 
ship for his true disciples, that he continues his unceas- 
ing intercession for them in heaven. He has not only 
given his life for them on earth, visits them here occa- 
sionally, listens to their complaints, bears with their sins, 
and makes provisions for their earthly pilgrimage ; but 
he ever appears in the presence oj God for Mem, attend- 
ing to all their interests there, advocating their cause 



123 

before the eternal throne, procuring for them those di- 
vine communications they need in their upward course, 
providing a place for them in the eternal mansions of 
his Father's love, and ever standing ready to receive 
them at the gate of death, to wash away their every re- 
maining taint of sin in his blood, to array them in the 
white and clean robes of his perfect righteousness, and 
to present them faultless before the presence of the ex- 
cellent glory with exceeding and everlasting joy. What 
marks of friendship can be named, if these are not such ? 
What evidence can prove any fact, if here is not proofj 
that Christ is the friend of his people ? 

But is our Lord the friend in the sense considered, 
of all his nominal disciples ? Certainly not. I am your 
friend, and you are mine, if you do whatsoever I 
command. This is the meaning of the text. He is 
the friend of those, and those only who are his obedi- 
ent servants. They can have no interest in his friend- 
ship, whose aim and solicitude are not to yield a uni- 
versal obedience to his commands. There can be no 
occasion to specify all of his commandments. We may 
learn their nature and import in the beautiful summary 
he has given of them in the context. One is this. 
Abide in me. Feel your dependance upon me. Main- 
tain an habitual communion with me. Manifest con- 
stantly your adherence and attachment to me. Derive 
your strength and your consolations from me. Anoth- 
er of his commands is this. Continue ye in my love. 
Cease not to cherish an ardent affection for me, and in 
all possible ways to manifest that affection. Be care- 
ful that nothing may tempt you to withhold your love 
from me and thus provoke me to withdraw mine from 
you. You are exposed to innumerable troubles and 
reverses ; preserve your love to me, and your troubles 
will prove light, your duties easy, and nothing shall 
greatly embarrass you. Again. This is my command- 
ment — 4hat ye love one another, as I have loved you. 
Love each other in the manner I have loved you. 



124 VALUE AND TEST 

Love each other, because I have loved you, and this is 
the best return you can make. This is my command- 
ment — the great and distinguishing one of my gospel. 
These things I command you, that ye love one another. 
Many things are included in this single requirement. 
If you obey this, you will in substance and spirit obey 
all my commandments. If you do not this, you will do 
nothing that I command you, according to the spirit of 
my holy requisitions. 

In what has been said we are presented with a brief 
view of the benefits, and the evidence of discipleship, 
These benefits must be perceived to be ineffably great 
and desirable. No one has lived without a personal 
experience of his need of these benefits. The whole 
history of a man up to the hour in which he becomes 
reconciled to Christ, is a connected and varied testimo- 
ny to his absolute poverty without the Saviour's friend- 
ship. The instinctive promptings of his heart after al- 
liances with other intelligent beings, perpetually disap- 
pointed and defeated, strongly suggest the necessity 
and value of an alliance with the permanent and perfect 
friend of sinners. And what tongue can utter the rap- 
tures of delight and glory that thrill the bosom of that 
sorrowing, desolate, bruised, and beaten child of earth, 
when he first gains an undoubting assurance, that the 
Lord Jesus Christ is his friend ? The immortal tongues 
of those who have gone to share his perfect and ever- 
lasting friendship, can speak those raptures ; but ours 
cannot. Brethren in the Lord, are our bosoms no 
strangers to such raptures ? Then do we know that 
he is our friend, not because we bear his name, not be- 
cause we receive his truth, not because we defend his 
faith, not because we outwardly comply with his last 
request, and come to the sacramental table ; but be- 
cause we approve of all his commands, and seek to do 
them. And especially because we depend on him for 
all things, and delight to evince that dependance — be- 
cause we love him supremely, and show that love by- 



OF CHRIST J S FRIENDSHIP. 125 

abounding in his works — because we love his own cho- 
sen saints, and make them our own chosen friends. If 
such is the ground of our persuasion that he is our friend, 
and we are his, we may hear him now saying to us, as 
we approach the communion table, — Eat, O friends ; 
drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved. Come and 
feast your souls on the provisions of my love. But are 
you the Saviour's friends, who never think to obey his 
commands ? Can he be the friend of you, who desire 
not and seek not his friendship ? Remember, that you 
are his friends or his enemies. Remember that he is 
your almighty friend, or almighty enemy. Will you 
disobey him and perish ? Or will you do his commands 
and live ? 



11 



SERiliOT¥ X. 



Subjection to Christ, and Instruction from Him. 



MATTHEW XI. 29. 

TAKE MY YOKE UPON YOU, AND LEARN OF ME ; FOR I AM MEEK 
ANP LOWLY IN HEART : AND YE SHALL FIND REST UNTO 
YOUR SOULS. 

Perhaps nothing has so directly contributed to hin- 
der the progress of the gospel in the world, as the im- 
perfect exhibition of its spirit by its professed adherents. 
Judging, either from the character of man and the struc- 
ture of human society, or from the express intimations 
of scripture, we should be alike led to conclude, that no 
means are to have so immediate and powerful efficien- 
cy in bringing the whole world to its destined subjec- 
tion to the Saviour, as the character and conduct of 
such as obey and learn of him. When his disciples are 
seen cheerfully bearing his yoke, and constantly incul- 
cating by their life and conversation the great lessons 
they have learned of him, then it is that his dominion 
extends. But hitherto much the largest portion of his 
nominal disciples, have evinced that another master 
reigned over them, and that they were practising les- 
sons never taught in the school of Christ. And grate- 
ful, indeed, would it be to be able to add, that no tra- 
ces of a practical Christianity thus defective can be 
found, where doctrines according to godliness are em- 



SUBJECTION TO CHRIST. 127 

braced, where the authority of the Redeemer is ac- 
knowledged, and the pure and heavenly tendency of his 
instructions perceived and admired. Yet abounding 
facts forbid it. Painful discrepancies between acknowl- 
edged belief and determined practice, meet us on every 
side. Were it not so common, it would surprise and 
shock us, to witness in the same individuals a most 
solemn public profession of obedience and devotedness 
to their Lord and Master, and a continued open denial 
and neglect of his authority and commands in their daily 
course of life — to see the same persons at one time in 
the posture of humble learners at the feet of their di- 
vine Teacher, and at another governed by the maxims 
and practising the lessons which are taught in the school 
of an ungodly world— at one time, by transactions of an 
import sufficiently solemn to make an angel tremble, 
sealing their professed consecration to the Saviour, and 
at another evincing by their conversation and deport- 
ment, that they are devoted to the world, are control- 
led by its spirit, and are making it their rest. These 
are facts which it is impossible to deny and unneces- 
sary to explain. We see them prevailing around us. 
We see how they retard the advancement of the Sa- 
viour's dominion among men. We see that the world 
will not be converted to Christ, until those who regard 
themselves the subjects of such a conversion, better rep- 
resent its nature and effects — until those who call them- 
selves his followers, more carefully obey him, are more 
evidently taught of him, and more nearly resemble him. 
In a word, we see, or may see what strong reasons there 
are to fear, that many nominal christians in our purest 
churches will not be saved, and the great mass of those 
who are without the pale of a visible profession of piety, 
must go down to death, unless a higher standard of re- 
ligion prevails among the friends of evangelical truth — 
unless they who assume the name of Christ, take his 

YOKE UPON THEM, AND LEARN OF HIM WHO IS MEEK 
AND LOWLY IN HEART. 



128 SUBJECTION TO CHRIST 

The great danger to the church at the present day- 
is, that so many connect in their case, soundness of 
creed with unsoundness of heart, high profession with 
low practice of piety, great pretensions to spirituality 
with grievous marks of worldly mindedness, much zeal 
in religious talk with much deadness in religious tem- 
pers. Never was it more urgently important than now, 
that christians be referred to him whose name they 
bear, as their Master and Teacher, their Lord and Ex- 
emplar. On no principle whatever can they be enti- 
tled to his name, unless they bear his yoke, and sub- 
mit to his instructions. It is in vain, that they call him 
Lord, unless they do whatsoever he commands them* 
Equally in vain is it for them to take the name of his 
disciples, unless they actually learn of him. But it is 
not a vain thing to obey and to be taught by him, for 
all who do thus, shall find rest unto their souls. 
I shall, therefore, make it the object of this discourse 
to show the reasonabless and blessedness of such a 
course. 

In the text the Saviour enjoins two things on those 
who come to him for rest. These are subjection to his 
authority and submission to his instruction — a disposi- 
tion cheerfully to obey his commands and to be resign- 
ed to his allotments ; and a readiness to be instructed 
by him. 

I. The Saviour enjoins on his followers subjection 
to his authority. Take my yoke upon you. The 
term yoke is figuratively used to denote servitude. Ser- 
vants and subjects are said in scripture to be under the 
yoke. To take Christ's yoke upon us, is to place our- 
selves in the relation of servants and subjects to him, 
and then faithfully to discharge the duties of this rela- 
tion. It is, in a word, to obey the gospel — to yield our- 
selves to the Lord. Now as a yoke naturally suggests 
the idea of hardship or oppression, to require those who 
are already weary and burdened, to assume it, might 
seem like adding burdens to the burdened, and afflic- 



AND INSTRUCTION FROM HIM. 129 

tions to the afflicted. But it is not so. The yoke, the 
assumption of which is enjoined on us, cannot be taken 
upon us until that is put off that wearies and oppresses 
us. What chiefly renders men weary and heavy laden, 
is the yoke of sin. This is broken and shaken off 
by the very act of putting on the yoke of Christ. To 
obey him, is to deny ungodliness and every worldly lust. 
If it involve any hardship, it is light compared with the 
slavery of sin. It seems to have been the object of the 
Saviour, to intimate our natural aversion to his service 
and to remove that aversion. He assures us that he 
enjoins nothing to which he did not himself submit. For 
he learned obedience by the things which he suffered. 
He reminds us, that although he submitted to reproach, 
and suffering, and death for our sake — that although he 
invites us, not because he has need of us, but because 
we have need of him ; yet that we deem his service rig- 
orous and severe, think of him as needlessly cruel and 
suppose the requisite engagement to him, must bring us 
under continual restraint, and operate to banish all real 
pleasure from our path. So attached are we to our own 
self-imposed burdens, and so fond are we of the chains 
which we forge and rivet for ourselves, that we strangely 
deem his rules too strict and his laws too severe, and 
fancy it more conducive to our happiness to go on in 
our own ways than to accede to his. What but the 
blindest prejudice could thus pervert our judgment, and 
misguide our choice ? Surely thoughts of him so unjust, 
and dishonorable, are affecting proofs of our blindness, 
baseness and depravity. And yet his language to us 
seems intended to banish our guilty distrust, and to con- 
strain us to satisfy ourselves by an experiment, that 
what our foolish hearts have regarded his yoke, is true 
liberty, and that in his service there is nothing burden- 
some. No one ever did make the experiment, without 
gaining the most heartfelt satisfaction in his service. 
They have loved him as soon as they have known him ; 
and as soon as they have truly loved him, they have 



130 SUBJECTION TO CHRIST 

sought to please him, not by a course of service of their 
own devising ; but by accepting his revealed will as 
their unerring standard, and by endeavoring to conform 
to it in their heart and life, in their temper and conduct. 

II. The Saviour in the text enjoins on us the duty 
of readily submitting to his instruction. Learn of 
me — or, Be insructed by me. He cannot be truly 
obeyed as our Master without being received as our 
Teacher. We cannot render him an acceptable ser- 
vice, unless we are taught by him. Nor can we ever 
be truly wise, until we apply to him for instruction. 
When he bids us learn of him, he designs to caution 
us against depending on any other for saving knowledge 
— against calling any one master upon earth. Although 
he is pleased to instruct men by his ministers as instru- 
ments, yet unless his special teaching is superadded, all 
that is learned will be unavailing to the lasting benefit 
of the soul. But when he condescends to teach men, 
they learn what no human instruction can teach. Let 
us notice several things, which serve to show the pre- 
eminent advantages of being instructed by him. 

1 . He can give the capacity requisite to the recep- 
tion of the lessons of heavenly wisdom. The want of 
this power in the case of those who undertake to in- 
struct pupils in human sciences, often defeats their en- 
deavors. Unless there is a capacity or native taste for 
a particular science or art, no skill in the teacher can 
render the scholar eminent in that branch of learning. 
He who has no original taste for music, will make little 
or no progress in the acquisition of that science under 
the most accomplished instructer. A teacher may im- 
prove and instruct, where there are capacities and dis- 
positions to learn, but he can communicate neither, 
where they are wanting. It is not so with him of whom 
we are required to learn. He can enlighten the dark- 
est, and quicken the dullest mind. He can give eyes 
to the blind and ears to the deaf. No man has, natu- 
rally, any taste for his lessons or any disposition to learn 



AND INSTRUCTION FROM HIM. 131 

of him. Truths of everlasting importance, when pre- 
sented by their fellow men, meet with no ready recep- 
tion, and are disregarded as an idle tale. There is a 
dulness, an obtuseness, a blindness, a listlessness, which 
renders the most stirring appeal to the reason, the con- 
science, and the heart, utterly powerless and in vain. 
But our divine teacher can remove at once every such 
impediment, and open to the heart an avenue to the 
truth. He can give a relish for the most interesting 
truths, and inspire the sluggish soul with the liveliest 
sensibility to the lessons of his word. He can make 
the foolish learn so much, as to confound the worldly 
wise ; and the weakest mind so strongly grounded in 
the spiritual knowledge of his word, as to confound 
those who glory in their own unaided powers. He can 
give the new heart, the enlightened understanding, the 
submissive and obedient will. There is no mind sunk 
too low to be raised by him to the dignity of a believing 
and purified mind. Well then may it be asked, who 
teacheth like him ? 

2. The lessons which he teaches, are of all others the 
most important. There are many subjects to which a 
high importance is attached among men, but which are 
comparatively trifling and insignificant. A man may 
live and die comfortably and safely in ignorance of them 
all. And a man may make himself familiar with every 
branch of human knowledge, and yet live in misery and 
die without hope. The truth of this remark is abun- 
dantly confirmed by experience and observation. He 
that increaseth knowledge of this kind, increaseth sor- 
row. The farther unsanctified men extend their in- 
quiries in any of the departments of human science, the 
farther they wander from the centre of true happiness. 
Inanity and vexation of spirit constitute the sum of 
their acquisitions. The reason is obvious to any one who 
will carefully look at the subject. The mind of man is 
created for something higher, purer, and more sublime, 
than such pursuits and attainments. It is gifted with 



132 SUBJECTION TO CHRIST 

capacities, which can never be blessed or satisfied with 
any thing less than God and the great things of his word. 
What has human learning done, or what can it do, to- 
wards bearing up the soul in trouble, controlling its 
wayward passions, weakening its worldly attachments, 
or banishing its dread of death ? Nothing at all. Men 
may give all their powers to such pursuits, and leave a 
splendid name to future generations ; and yet feel at 
the last solemn review of their course, that they have liv- 
ed in vain to themselves and to the world. There was 
one who felt thus, and who towards the close of a life 
spent in literary pursuits, uttered this admonitory ex- 
clamation — " Alas ! I have wasted my whole life in 
painful labors to no valuable purpose." In the school 
of Christ it is not so. His lessons have a present and 
everlasting value to the soul. He makes those who 
learn of him wise to some valuable purpose for time and 
eternity. He teaches the way of God in truth. He 
distinctly marks out the way to heaven. He reveals to 
his weakest disciples that knowledge, which the wisest 
men after the flesh cannot comprehend. He enables 
those who have learned scarcely nothing except his own 
lessons, to feel calmly assured at the close of life, that 
they have fought a good fight, finished their course, 
kept the faith, and secured the inheritance of unfading 
crowns of righteousness, at the right hand of their Lord 
and Master. 

3. Another preeminent advantage which they enjoy 
who are instructed by Christ, is that their hearts are 
influenced by what they learn. Human teachers, if 
they enlighten and convince the understanding, cannot 
sway and rectify the heart. The great masters of this 
world's philosophy abound in high wrought encomiums 
on the beauty of virtue, on the fitness of things, and on 
the desirableness of benevolence, temperance, equity, 
and truth. And they who learn of them, learn to use 
the same splendid declamation on like themes. But 
all their magnificent schemes and delightful theories 



AND INSTRUCTION FROM HIM. 133 

are powerless in their practical bearing. Their lessons 
are found to leave themselves and their pupils as much 
the slaves of pride, passion, sensuality, envy, malice 
and other vile affections, as any of the untaught vulgar 
whom they despise. It is a mortifying consideration, 
that some of the most admired teachers of this world's 
morality, require to be classed with the most abandoned 
and despicable of mankind. They have, with disgust- 
ing impudence, contradicted in their tenor of life, all 
their beautiful theories of right .and fitness. But the 
teaching of Christ extends to the heart. His lessons 
are no less beautiful in practice than in theory. He 
teaches not only what is absolutely and immutably right, 
but to abhor and forsake whatever things are not hon- 
est, true, just , pure, lovely, and of good report. He 
does not teach his disciples to speak great swelling 
words of vanity, but humbly and silently to achieve en- 
terprises of everduring benefit to man. He teaches 
them to be holy and useful, and happy in life, peaceful 
and joyful in death, and to enter upon a retribution full 
of glory and blessedness. 

4. It is the peculiar advantage of the disciples of 
Christ, that their lessons are always before them, their 
teacher always with them, and they may be always learn- 
ing. The disciples of no other teacher enjoy such fa- 
cilities. He spreads out before them the instructive 
page of his visible works, thickly written with important 
truths that at once illustrate, and are illustrated by the 
volume of his grace. His providence disposes of things 
and events subsidiary to the purposes of his grace. 
The world is their school ; and the daily events of their 
life are lessons of rich instruction. Wherever they turn 
their eyes, they meet with objects which are adapted 
either directly to lead their thoughts to the Saviour, or 
to explain and confirm some parts of his word. The 
incidents of human life, the characters with which they 
meet, the conversations they hear, the vicissitudes which 
are taking place in families, in towns, in nations, these 

12 



134 SUBJECTION TO CHRIST 

all furnish a perpetual and often most affecting com- 
mentary on what the scriptures teach respecting the 
human heart, and the moral condition of the world. In 
this way many of the great truths which we are con- 
cerned to understand and remember, are continually 
and forcibly exhibited before our eyes, and brought 
home to our bosoms. Nor is this all. He who made, 
governs, and sustains all things, and who is the great 
subject of the bible, and the only foundation of our hope, 
is alway present with those who would learn of him. 
By the suggestions of his Spirit, he teaches them how 
to find rest, when every thing about them is in disorder 
and agitation — where to confide when the world and its 
votaries prove deceitful — and how to possess his meek- 
ness and humility in a world that is filled with the re- 
vengeful, the passionate, and the proud. 

5. This leads me to notice that peculiar advantage 
of those who learn of Christ, which is particularly re- 
ferred to in the text. For I am meek and lowly in 
heart. It not seldom happens, that persons in other 
respects competent to impart instruction in human sci- 
ences, discourage and intimidate their pupils by their 
rash, impetuous, impatient or distant manners. They 
have not the requisite condescension and gentleness to 
engage the attention and affection of the timid and the 
volatile, or to soften and reclaim the stubborn and per- 
verse. But he who bids us learn of him, has no such 
features of character to drive us away from him in dis- 
couragement and despondency. Nay, he urges us to 
become his disciples, from the consideration of his op- 
posite traits of character. What those traits are, we 
may see from what they were, while in the flesh he 
tabernacled among men. He never became impatient 
or wearied by the perverseness or dulness of his disci- 
ples. He ever conversed among them with the utmost 
meekness. He always allowed them a gracious free- 
dom of access to his person. He bore with their mis- 
takes, reproved and corrected them with the greatest 



AND INSTRUCTION FROM HIM. ] 35 

mildness, and with kind accommodation to even then- 
prejudices, he taught them as they were able to bear. 
And now that he is exalted upon his glorious throne, 
and invested with ineffable majesty, we are directed to 
think of him as the same meek and condescending Sa- 
viour. It was an absurd and excessive compliment, 
once addressed by a Roman orator to a Roman Empe- 
ror — " that they who durst speak to him were ignorant 
of his greatness, and they who durst not, were equally 
ignorant of his goodness." But as applied to Imman- 
uel, it is a just and literal truth. If we properly con- 
sider his greatness alone, it must seem almost presump- 
tion in us to think of uttering his holy name ; but if we 
have a due sense of his unlimited benignity and grace, 
every difficulty vanishes, and we must feel a liberty in 
approaching him, though with reverence, yet with con- 
fidence. He will not frown upon us, when we would 
come to sit at his feet. But he is condescending as 
well as meek. Though he humbles himself to behold 
the things that are done in heaven, he condescends to 
teach those who desire to learn of him. As none can 
recommend themselves to him by their rank, wealth, 
or talents, so none are excluded from his regard by the 
want of the things which men naturally value and covet. 
Surely, all must see that they who are truly his disci- 
ples, have preeminent advantages and facilities for be- 
coming wise to their everlasting benefit. He can give 
the capacity and the will to learn. He can teach les- 
sons of all others the most important. He can sway 
the heart and life as well as inform the understanding. 
He is an ever present teacher, opening a constant and 
ever increasing field of knowledge. And he is so meek 
that he will never dishearten them by his austerity, and 
so lowly that he will stoop to pour instruction into the 
meanest and most uninformed minds. Is it not reason- 
able that such a Master should be obeyed, and the les- 
sons of such a Teacher carefully imbibed ? 

It must be apparent that the obedience to Christ, and 



136 SUBJECTION TO CHRIST 

the readiness to learn of him enjoined in the text, can- 
not fail to secure the promised blessing — rest to the 
soul. To be obedient and docile to such a Lord and 
Master, is to be restored to a becoming state of de- 
pendence on God — a state of harmony and peace with 
him — a state of subjection of our wills to his will — and 
a state of freedom from guilty fears and terrors. To 
learn of Christ, is so to behold the vanity of the world, 
as to extinguish our restless desires, and suspend our 
wearisome pursuit of things uncertain and unsatisfying. 
To sit as disciples at his feet, is to gain subiimer and 
purer hopes and pleasures than the present state of 
things can ever yield. To be thus obedient and teacha- 
ble, gives the soul rest, by directly furnishing us with 
those aids, encouragements, and motives, which make 
duty desirable, practicable, and delightful. 

Many of us are the professed disciples of Christ. We 
profess to have assumed his yoke, and to have sought and 
submitted to his instruction. And what have we actu- 
ally learned ? Some of us have long been in his school. 
Under the eminent advantages of his tuition, great at- 
tainments ought to have been made. Are we sure that 
we have truly been inclined to learn ? Is there evi- 
dence, that our hearts have been influenced by the les- 
sons he teaches ? The proud, the haughty, the impetu- 
ous, the passionate, the voluptuous, and the worldly, 
familiar as they are with his name and frequently as they 
may have attended on his instructions, cannot as yet 
have truly sat at his feet, or imbibed his spirit. They 
have not yet learned the first lessons he teaches. They 
have not been taught to be meek and lowly in heart. 
In vain are all other attainments without these. In vain 
is their accurate knowledge of his truths. In vain is 
their burning zeal in his cause. In vain are their high 
professions of attachment. Let all such disciples an- 
ticipate the time, when they must hear him declare to 
them, / never knew you — depart from me, all ye work- 
ers of iniquity. As they are now strangers to his rest, 



AND INSTRUCTION FROM HIM. 13f 

they should bear it in mind, that unchanged, they can 
never enter into his rest. 

This subject is full of encouragement to such as are 
truly weary and heavy laden. Burdened with a sense 
of sin and guilt, let them only take his yoke upon 
them, and the cruel oppression will vanish. They feel 
dark and bewildered ; let them cast themselves at his 
feet to be taught, and they shall be enlightened and 
guided. And who can hesitate to obey the meek and 
condescending Redeemer ? Who can feel a reluctance 
to learn of such a Teacher ? He is full of tenderness 
and love. His compassion and condescension are in- 
finite. Many millions on earth have taken his yoke and 
learned of him, and had a blessed experience of the free- 
dom and deliverance he gives. While heaven is throng- 
ed with those who are cheerfully, and eternally to bear 
the same yoke, and to be taught by the same exalted 
and lowly master and guide. Listen, then, all ye wea- 
ry and heavy laden sinners, to his kindest calls. Has- 
ten to him. Submit to his gentle and equal sway. 
Begin to learn the lessons of grace, of heaven, and of 
eternity. Are not your hearts ready to say — Behold % 
we come unto thee, for thou art the Lord our God. 



12* 



SERMON XI. 



The convicted Sinner's anxions Inquiry. 



ACTS II. 37. 

NOW WHEN THET HEARD THIS, THEY WERE PRICKED IH THEIR 
HEART, AND SAID UNTO PETER, AND TO THE REST OF THE 
APOSTLES MEN AND BRETHREN, WHAT SHALL WE DO? 



Next to the event of our Saviour's crucifixion, the 
effusion of the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost, was 
undoubtedly, the most important occurrence, the world 
ever witnessed. It was a signal fulfilment of the con- 
cluding series of prophecies respecting the advent of 
the Messiah, and the establishment of his kingdom on 
earth. It was that spiritual baptism, for which, in obe- 
dience to the command of their Master, his disciples 
were waiting at Jerusalem. Through its influence on 
the apostles, and on the multitude of Jews w T ho were 
then collected out of the different provinces of the Ro- 
man empire, an impulse was given to the cause of Christ, 
which is yet felt, and which will be more and more felt, 
until a spiritual Christianity shall pervade all the kin- 
dreds of the earth. Some of the events of that day, 
were entirely of a miraculous character, and such as 
have not since occurred. They belonged peculiarly to 
that point in the progress of the new dispensation, and 
then had an indispensable agency in that progress. But 
most of the incidents of that day, have ever since been 
connected with the simple and faithful preaching of the 



THE CONVICTED SINNEr's 139 

gospel. And what gave them a preeminent importance, 
was their contemporary, wide, and powerful influence, 
the character of the individuals who were chiefly con- 
cerned in them, and their standing first in a long suc- 
cession of occurrences, reaching down to the present 
moment, and resulting in the saving conversion of sin- 
ners. On the day of Pentecost was witnessed the first 
grand experiment of the power of the gospel. Then 
was experienced to an unexampled degree in power 
and extent, one of those times of refreshing from the 
presence of the Lord, which from age to age have re- 
vived, purified, and enlarged his visible church. 

From the history of the transactions of that day, given 
by the pen of inspiration, much may be learned of the 
genuine nature and effects of the gospel. There the 
christian minister is instructed how to preach, how to 
distinguish between real conviction of sin, from the bare 
excitement of the imagination or the passions, and 
how to direct the awakened and convicted sinner in the 
way of salvation. The passage selected from that his- 
tory for present consideration, contains suggestions on 
each of these points. Now when they heard this, 

THEY WERE PRICKED IN THEIR HEART, AND SAID UN- 
TO PETER, AND TO THE REST OF THE APOSTLES Men 

and brethren, what shall we do ? The prominent 
thoughts here suggested, naturally arrange themselves 
under the following heads : 

The means of producing conviction of sin — The na^ 
ture of such conviction^-The inquiry to which it leads. 

I. The means of producing conviction of sin. That 
Infinite Being, who alone is the author of every favora- 
ble change in the human mind and character, is not lim- 
ited in the range of means which he can employ to this 
end. He is, likewise, a sovereign in selecting and com- 
municating the requisite efficiency to any which lie with- 
in the reach of his boundless resources. Those which 
in the view of man, appear powerless, or to possess a di- 
rectly opposite tendency, he often converts into instru- 



140 THE CONVICTED SINNER^ 






merits of achieving the most signal victories over the na- 
tive blindness and obduracy of the human mind. But 
his truth, either directly or indirectly, is the means 
which he generally uses to create conviction of sin in 
the unregenerate. This is the weapon that reaches the 
heart and conscience, when affliction seems to be the 
sole occasion of first turning the mind of the thought- 
less, thankless rebel, upon the sin and guilt of his in- 
gratitude and rebellion. This has the principal agency 
in arresting the attention, and in bringing over the soul 
an agonizing impression of the consequences of sin, 
when sickness and the apparently near approach of 
death, seem to arouse the sinner from the long and un- 
broken slumbers of spiritual death. Indeed, so invaria- 
ble is its agency in this work, that it is emphatically de- 
nominated the sword of the Spirit. There is no evi- 
dence, that genuine conviction of sin, is ever experien- 
ced without the instrumentality of the word of God. It 
is this alone which is armed with life and power to pierce 
the soul, and to discern the thoughts and intents of the 
heart. It is this, which is mighty through God, to the 
pulling down of strong holds — casting down imagina- 
tions, and every high thing that exalt eth itself against 
the knowledge of God. Is not my word like as afire, 
saith the Lord, and like a hammer, that hreaketh the 
rock in pieces. 

If we recur to the memorable example of the apos- 
tle on the day of Pentecost, it will be seen, that this 
was the grand means, which he employed with such 
unparalleled success. It was not by coldly discoursing 
on the beauties of virtue ; it was not by delighting the 
multitude with the pleasing creations of a lively imagina- 
tion ; it was not by senseless and unmeaning appeals to 
the passions and feelings, that he achieved the wonders 
of that day. Had he pursued this course, the three 
thousand might have been moved and melted, but they 
would not have been convicted and converted. Instead 
of this, however, with great simplicity and plainness^ 



ANXIOUS INQJJIRY. 141 

though with much point and force of application, he 
only introduced some of the more important facts and 
doctrines of the gospel. After noticing the blasphem- 
ous insinuation of some among the Jews, that the mirac- 
ulous gifts of the Holy Spirit bestowed upon the disci- 
ples, was the effect of intoxication, and assuring them 
that what they witnessed was a manifest accomplishment 
of a well known prophecy, he, in the first place, exhib- 
ited, and fastened upon them, the exceeding guilt of re- 
jecting and crucifying the Lord of glory. And al- 
though by these acts, they had only executed what the 
hand and counsel of God determined before to be done, 
he insisted on the criminality of such acts. They had 
all of them had the means of knowing that he was the 
Saviour of the world. Many of them had listened to 
his public discourses. And not a few of them were, 
doubtless, of the number who had cried with emotions 
of strong aversion to his person and kingdom, away with 
him — crucify him — crucify him ! But he whom they 
had thus despised, and rejected, and crucified, had es- 
caped from the bonds of death and the grave. And 
1 being by the right hand of God exalted, and having re- 
ceived of the Father, the promise of the Holy Spirit, he 
had shed forth that which they that day had seen and 
heard.' In view of these undoubted facts, he admon- 
ished them of their danger. To remain as they were, 
the enemies of the risen and exalted Prince of life, was 
to expose themselves to speedy and irremediable ruin. 
The crucified Jesus, now seated at the right hand of the 
Majesty on high, would soon exert his resistless power 
in treading beneath his feet, and crushing all who thus 
continued incorrigible foes to his gracious sway. Nor 
did the apostle fail to assure them, that he who was 
thus able to destroy, was no less mighty to save. There- 
fore let all the house of Israel know assuredly, that God 
hath made that same Jesus, whom ye have crucified, both 
Lord and Christ. Ignorant, guilty, and helpless as you 
are, you may obtain abundant instruction, atonement, 



142 THE CONVICTED SINNERS 

and grace in him whom, with unequalled wickedness, 
you have but lately nailed to the cross. 

Such were the principal topics upon which the apos- 
tle dwelt, when addressing the Jews on the day ol Pen- 
tecost. And which of them would he have occasion to 
omit, were he to address unbelieving sinners in this as- 
sembly ? Oh, that these very truths could be pressed 
upon them with the spirit and power of that apostle on 
that day ! But you have not actually crucified the 
Lord of glory. No ! nor had they actually done it, 
on whom the undaunted disciple so unhesitatingly char- 
ged the dreadful guilt of shedding his blood. It was 
Roman hands that platted the thorny crown, that drove 
the nails, and thrust the spear. While Jews urged for- 
ward the awful catastrophe by madly demanding his 
death, by falsely accusing him of treason and blasphe- 
my, by insulting and beating him before their tribunal, 
and mocking and exulting at his dying agonies. And 
hava you been strangers to feelings which, in them as- 
sumed such undisguised forms of aversion to the Sa- 
viour ? With means of becoming acquainted with his 
character, and offices, and grace, and glory, greatly 
superior to theirs, have you not, when he has been 
passing by in his word and ordinances, scornfully 
rejected and despised him ? Have you not, when he 
has been faithfully preached and urged upon your ac- 
ceptance, as your only and all sufficient Saviour, had 
your hearts rise with emotions which no language could 
more accurately express, than the infatuated cry of the 
Jews — away with him — away with him ! And when 
in the ordinance of the Lord's supper, he has evidently 
been set forth before you, crucified and slain, how have 
you treated this affecting exhibition of his dying love ? 
Have you not, times without number, turned away from 
it as nothing to you, secretly regarding it an unmean- 
ing rite, and practically mocking the atoning blood and 
agonies it represents ? And are you guiltless in all this ? 
Less guilty you may be than those whom Peter address- 



ANXIOUS INQUIRY. 143 

ed ; but you cannot escape if you only neglect the Sa- 
viour. You are guilty enough to be numbered among 
his enemies. With them you are liable to be crushed 
by the terrible power of him whom as yet you are treat- 
ing with causeless and ruinous neglect. To say noth- 
ing of that fearful curse under which you lie as trans- 
gressors of the perfect law of God, by your obstinate 
indifference to the condescension, and grace, and ten- 
derness of Immanuel, you have reached a degree of 
criminality from which you must inevitably sink into 
endless perdition, unless touched by a sense of your 
guilt, and of his love and compassion, you are con- 
strained to look to him with the earnest confidence of 
perishing want in almighty power and willingness to 
save. Say not, then, that you are not guilty enough 
to be banished from holiness and heaven, while you 
persist in banishing the compassionate Saviour from 
your hearts. Say not, that you are willing to receive 
him, so long as you can hear these truths, and not be 
■pricked in your hearts. 

II. The nature of genuine conviction of sin. 

It has been already observed, that the word of God 
is the great instrument in working such conviction in 
the mind. But the word of God may be read, it may 
be listened to as faithfully preached by the ministers of 
reconciliation, and there may be a general understand- 
ing, or intellectual conviction of its great truths, and yet 
no true conviction of sin effected. No one lives where 
the common means and influences of religious instruc- 
tion are enjoyed, who has not some indistinct impression 
of personal sin. But it is not felt. To perceive, and 
to feel, are very different acts of the mind. In real 
conviction of sin, divine truth comes home to the soul. 
Before it was seen and acknowledged, but now it is felt. 
It comes with a power and illumination, that stirs up 
the elements of that mass of sins, which had been accu- 
mulating and lying unregarded through many years, and 
discloses them in their strength and terrible greatness. 



144 THE CONVICTED SINNER'S 

Then it is, that the word of God pierces even to the di- 
viding asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and 
marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents 
of the heart. The discovery is often sudden, and ar- 
rests, absorbs, and agitates the whole mind. All is new, 
and the novelty of the scene which opens upon the sin- 
ner, serves to render the disclosure more overwhelm- 
ing. The thought of having, amidst so much light, and 
knowledge, and moral influence, been cherishing and 
treasuring up such an amount of sins, now adds not a 
little to their greatness and aggravation. The disposi- 
tion so universal among unawakened and hardened sin- 
ners, to attempt an excuse or palliation of their sins, is 
lost in the first afflictive discovery of their actual state 
before God. Instead of self-justification, and self-flat- 
tery, they pronounce themselves entirely blamable, ut- 
terly inexcusable, and justly condemned. Instead of 
shielding themselves under the opinion, that others are 
much more sinful and guilty than they are, it is with 
difficulty they can conceive of any other rational beings 
throughout the universe of God, so deserving his wrath, 
and whom he might not more consistently pardon and 
save. If any sins appear to them more exceeding sin- 
ful — clothed with a deeper turpitude and malignity than 
others, they are such as they have accumulated in neg- 
lecting the Saviour. They pierce their hearts with the 
keenest anguish. These sometimes give them an im- 
pression, that they are more hateful in the view of God, 
than those fallen spirits in the prison of despair, who 
never sinned against redeeming love and compassion. 
But the anguish which conviction of sin creates in 
the sinner's mind, arises not less from a discovery of 
the greatness of his danger, than of the greatness of his 
guilt. Indeed, as a discovery of the latter can scarcely 
be separated from a view of the former, their influence 
is commonly united and simultaneous in its effects. He 
who sees the greatness of his sins, but does not loathe 
them, must see the greatness of his danger without the 



ANXIOUS INQUIRY, 145 

means of avoiding it. And perhaps, if the views and 
feelings of the convicted sinner, were accurately ana- 
lyzed and traced to their origin, it would be found that 
apprehension of danger, is the chief source of the in- 
ward pangs he feels. With no disrelish of sin apart 
from the sufferings to which it leads, no views of its 
greatness could give distress, if these sufferings were 
not known to follow. But sin and suffering are linked 
together by the immutable laws of the moral universe, 
and they cannot be separated even in thought. When 
truth, therefore, flashes conviction of sin into the mind, 
the sinner cannot but behold in the same light, which 
discloses to him sins innumerable and guilt incompre- 
hensible, an approaching perdition as terrible in its na- 
ture, as these are numberless and aggravated in their 
character. Oh ! it is a solemn and agonizing impres- 
sion of a life of crimes and an eternity of retribution, 
which drinks up his spirit and withers his very soul. 
Though he would not lose this impression, it often al- 
most drives him to despair, and leads him to new acts 
of sin in doubting whether the divine mercy can pardon 
so great a sinner, and save him from so dreadful an end. 
Such is the nature of genuine conviction of sin. It is 
doubtless, varied in degree of clearness of views, and 
depth and poignancy of impression, by the circumstan- 
ces of education and natural character. But every 
really convicted sinner feels the greatness of his sins, 
the immense guilt he has contracted, the righteousness 
of God in punishing him for it, and the amazing danger 
to which he is exposed. He is ready to inquire, with 
deep and earnest solicitude, what he shall do. 

III. The inquiry to which genuine conviction of sin 
leads. Great numbers of those who heard the apostle 
preach on the day of Pentecost, " were pricked in 
their heart, and said unto peter, and to the rest 

OF THE APOSTLES Men AND BRETHREN, WHAT SHALL 

we do ? Theirs was real conviction. It was the be- 
ginning of repentance. It was the first giving away of 

13 



146 THE CONVICTED SINNER^ 

the blindness and obduracy of their rebellious minds* 
It was the first impression of the powers of the world to 
come. Their inquiry, (and it is an inquiry almost dai- 
ly heard where the gospel is faithfully preached,) view- 
ed in connexion with the previous and subsequent inci- 
dents of the day, indicated an agitated, perplexed, and 
highly excited mind. It expressed desires, which how- 
ever earnest and sincere, were wholly sinful. They 
were yet sinners, though deeply convicted sinners. 
They were no longer as they had been up to that hour, 
ignorant of their true character and condition before 
God. They had ceased to be indifferent. They had 
ceased to regard sin as a small evil. They did not sin 
as before without concern, because they dreaded the 
consequences. Before, the language of their heart had 
been to every faithful message of God to them — Go 
thy way for this time. Heretofore, they had felt no 
desire after the way of salvation — now the dreadfulness 
of their condition and prospects, presented to their minds 
in appalling distinctness, prompts the earnest interroga- 
tory WHAT SHALL WE DO ? 

Sinners in the state of mind indicated by this ques- 
tion, find themselves exceedingly ignorant of spiritual 
things. They may have read the bible and thought 
they understood it. But now Egyptian darkness seems 
to brood over every page of the sacred volume. All 
is obscure and unintelligible, but the fearful threaten- 
ings of divine wrath. The way of salvation which it 
reveals to the pure in heart, is altogether blind to them. 
Although they have a strong conviction, that, if ever 
saved, it must be in some way through Jesus Christ, 
yet they have no apprehension of the suitableness of 
his character, offices, and work to their wretched case. 
Thus like the blind, they grope in darkness, at noon- 
day, and wander about to seek some safe guidance. 
Formerly they viewed the Sabbath a weariness, and 
felt that the house of God was an irksome; place ; now 
they welcome the return of holy time, and hasten to 



ANXIOUS INQUIRY. 147 

the house of prayer, with restless longings after some- 
thing to meet their case, quiet their fears, and set their 
burdened spirit free. The bible is searched with a pry- 
ing eagerness to catch a glimpse of some promise, that 
will speak peace to their agitated mind. Spiritual chris- 
tians whom they once avoided with scorn, as rigid, 
gloomy, or enthusiastic, are now sought as their chosen 
friends and companions ; while their former associates, 
the gay, the unthinking, the worldly minded, and the 
vicious, are forsaken as exciting a dangerous influence 
on their eternal interests. If they were accustomed 
before, occasionally to pray, and thought their prayers 
acceptable to God, or wholly omitted even the form of 
prayer, now they cry earnestly and constantly unto God 
for deliverance, though they see their prayers are scarce- 
ly other than an abomination unto the Lord. 

These are some of the marks of that state of convic- 
tion, which prompts such earnest interrogatories as the 
text contains. But it needs to be observed, that no 
strength of impression of personal guilt and danger, 
amounts to repentance. Real conviction is not conver- 
sion. Not a few have been the subjects of the former, 
who never experienced the latter. Some have been 
led, after being the subjects of deep conviction, to con- 
clude that there was no prospect of deliverance from 
danger, and thus have relapsed into their original indif- 
ference — have returned like the dog to his vomit — and 
like the swine that was washed, to her wallowing in the 
mire. But none who have cherished such convictions, 
continued earnest in such inquiries, and persevered in 
the direction their impressions urged them, have ulti- 
mately failed of finding the path of life — the rest of 
heaven. None ever reached those holy mansions with- 
out such convictions, though some have had them, and 
have gone down to the chambers of eternal death ! 
Most of those who were pricked in their heart by 
the preaching of the apostle on the day of Pentecost, 
were probably renewed in heart and at length received 



148 THE CONVICTED SINNER'S 

to glory. And be it remembered, that all whose con- 
victions have this blessed issue, continue unremitted the 
deep and agonizing struggles thus awakened — learn 
more and more of the alarming obduracy of their hearts, 
and of the exceeding perverseness of their dispositions, 
of their guilt and helplessness, their wretchedness and 
their ruin, until despairing of all help from men, and 
withdrawing all dependance upon their own endeavors, 
they give up themselves cheerfully and entirely to the 
sovereignty of divine mercy, breathing forth the earnest 
and believing cry from their inmost soul- — Lord save us, 
we perish. 

REMARKS. 

1. Real conviction of sin is the work of the Holy 
Spirit through the instrumentality of divine truth. 
This is eminently true of the instances mentioned in the 
text. There was an unexampled effusion of the Holy 
Spirit, but we have no reason to conclude, that a single 
one of the assembled multitude would have been prick- 
ed in the heart, had not the truth been presented to 
the mind and conscience. To perceive and feel the 
great truths of scripture, is to be convinced of sin. But 
the discovery and strong impression of the truth, is the 
effect of a spiritual influence. In promising the dispen- 
sation of the Holy Spirit, the Saviour refers the work 
of conviction to him, but refers also to the instrumen- 
tality of truth as the means of effecting it. Indeed, his 
invariably operating through the agency of truth, is stri- 
kingly indicated by his being called the Spirit of truth. 
When he, the Spirit of truth is come, he will guide you 
into all truth. He shall glorify me — for he shall re- 
ceive of mine, and shall show it unto you. This fact 
is full of instruction, both to the preachers, and hearers 
of the gospel. The ministers of Christ are taught that 
their great business is to preach the simple truths of the 
bible in season and out of season. If they employ any 
other means for the salvation of men, it is not the sword 
of the Spirit, and it must consequently fail of any sav- 



ANXIOUS INQUIRY. 149 

ing efficacy. They may mingle in their instruction, 
much that is not absolutely contrary to scripture, with 
not a little that is, and with their manner and other ac- 
companiments, interest, awaken, and impress the minds 
of sinners ; but the effect will be chiefly on the imagi- 
nation and the passions. Sinners will not be pricked 
in their heart, and made to feel the unspeakable 
magnitude of their guilt and danger. And their impres- 
sions, though often apparently strong, not being deep, 
soon pass away. By this fact the hearers of a preach- 
ed gospel, may learn how important it is to hear in the 
manner pointed out in the morning discourse. Unless 
they receive it as the word of God — as the sole instru- 
ment of their salvation — with a teachable temper, and 
with desires for the influence of the Spirit of truth, they 
have no reason to expect to be convinced of sin, to be 
made penitent, and sanctified for heaven. 

2. Genuine conviction of sin leads those who are its 
subjects instinctively to the bible and to prayer. They 
cling to the very weapon that has pierced their heart. 
Though they do not love it, they know it to be a friend 
whose wounds are faithful. While it gives them pain, 
they see that it points them aright. They see, too, that 
the Spirit which winged the weapon home to their bo- 
som, alone can effectually heal their wounded spirit, 
and bring peace and comfort to their agitated minds. 
It is therefore they pray. It is no doubtful question in 
their minds, whether or not, an awakened sinner should 
be directed to pray. With their views and impressions, 
they cannot restrain prayer. It is often uttered invol- 
untarily. Selfish and sinful as they clearly perceive 
every such act to be, they cannot be prevented crying 
for mercy. From this it may be seen that such as seem 
to be awakened, but who feel no peculiar interest in the 
word of God, and are rarely if ever alone with their 
God and his truth, have no true conviction of sin. 
They may be greatly excited, appear very anxious, 
speak much of their distress and desires, and feel at 

13* 



150 THE CONVICTED SINNERS 






rest only when with those who are supposed to pray, 
and to have much religious ardor. But they are all 
the while wholly dead at heart, ignorant of themselves, 
of their depravity, of the real cause of their wretched- 
ness, and of their approaching danger. They have 
never felt that sorrow and compunction of heart, which 
would induce them earnestly and honestly to inquire — 

WHAT SHALL WE DO ? 

3. It is proper to notice the direction suitable to be 
given to such as do thus inquire. Sometimes they re- 
ceive directions fitted to allay their fears, and quiet their 
agitations of mind. They are exhorted to banish their 
gloominess and mingle in society. That they are not 
so sinful as they imagine — that God is merciful — and 
that to be religious is to be cheerful. By others again, 
they are directed simply to attend to some of the out- 
ward duties, and to make a profession of religion. And 
persons, who have some right views of the state of con- 
victed sinners, and would not lead them astray, fre- 
quently err in the counsel they give to inquirers. They 
direct such to read the bible, to pray, to attend on the 
common means of grace, and to persevere ; and en- 
courage them to expect that by these means, they will 
ultimately be brought into a state of acceptance with 
God. But such was not the apostle's direction. Not 
that he forbid them to do these things. These are du- 
ties not to be neglected at the peril of sinking into per- 
dition. But their great, present, indispensable, and 
pressing duty, is to repent, and do works meet for re- 
pentance. Until they do this, instead of making ap- 
proaches towards a state of acceptance with God, they 
are in heart only departing from him. You then, who 
would ask with a strong sense of your sins and danger, 
what you shall do ? may see how the God of heaven 
answers that interrogatory. He bids you bring to him 
a broken and believing heart. This is the only sacri- 
fice he requires of you— the only acceptable one you 
can offer. You must repent, or perish. Until you do 



ANXIOUS INQUIRY. J 51 

this, your tears, and your prayers avail nothing. You 
are yet highminded, and you must be humble. You 
are attached with unabated relish to sin, and you must 
loathe it. You in heart reject the only Saviour of the 
lost, and you must cordially embrace him. And he, 
in sinning against whose grace and compassion you have 
accumulated your deepest guilt, is waiting still to re- 
ceive you, and to wash away all your guilt in his own 
blood. Oh, can you look to him, and not loathe your- 
selves and repent in dust and ashes ? Can you think 
of his matchless condescension, his love and mercy, and 
not cling to him with the ardor of inextinguishable af- 
fection, with the grasp of unalterable faith and confi- 
dence ? He is your all. There is no hope — there is 
no rest— there is no salvation but in him. 

One word to you who have no proper sense of your 
sins. You endeavor to believe yourselves safe — but 
you are in imminent danger. You imagine that you 
have need of nothing — but you are poor indeed — mise- 
rable, and wretched and blind and naked. You think 
yourselves whole — but you are afflicted with a disease 
which is preying upon your souls, and must terminate 
in their everlasting death, unless you apply to the great 
Physician. Shrink not, I beseech you, from a true dis- 
covery of your state. Cherish any slight impression 
you may receive of your danger. O, do not rest as 
you are. Do not sleep on the verge of ruin. Do not 
destroy your own souls eternally. Do not despise, and 
wonder — and perish ? Do not resist the Holy Spirit 
of promise ; but invite his blessed influence. Obey his 
motions ; and you may yet participate all the blessed- 
ness of convicted, repentant, and purified sinners. 






SEKII©^ XII 



Millennial Scenes Anticipated. 



ISAIAH LX. 8. 

WHO ARE THESE THAT FLY AS A CLOUD, AND AS THE DOVES 
TO THEfR WINDOWS? 



A large part of the prophecy of Isaiah, relates to 
the advent of Christ, and the establishment of his spir- 
itual kingdom in the world. Ever since it was first 
communicated to men, there have been those who have 
considered numerous portions of it, as expressly fore- 
telling the rapid progress of the gospel and the conver- 
sion of Gentile nations, immediately previous to the be- 
ginning of millennial days. The whole of the sixtieth 
chapter, is one continued, glowing description of the 
advancement of a pure and spiritual christianty to its 
universal prevalence and dominion among men. Much 
that is here foretold, is undoubtedly yet to receive its 
accomplishment. With all proper allowance for the 
highly figurative language employed by the prophet, it 
must be apparent to every one, who has carefully atten- 
ded to the subject, that nothing has yet occurred in the 
moral condition of men, which can be viewed as com- 
ing up to even the lowest import of this impassioned 
description. In interpreting prophecy, it is not, indeed, 
for us to venture to prophesy, or to forget that the times 



MILLENNIAL SCENES ANTICIPATED. 153 

and the seasons arc at the disposal of God. What is 
predicted will, however, be fulfilled. And though ray- 
own mind is by no means very strongly affected by those 
views of prophecy, which are sometimes expressed by 
persons of ardent minds, who think they can discern in 
the existing aspect of things, the very commencement 
of the millennium ; I am }^et far from thinking there are 
no cheering symptoms of its near approach. The in- 
creased measures of divine influences, widely shed forth 
simultaneously on different portions of the world, the 
growing zeal, activity, and joy of the visible church, and 
the crowds that are seeking Zion with their faces thither- 
ward, all betoken the approaching dawn of the latter 
day. These extended and powerful effusions of the 
Holy Spirit, are presenting scenes, which, although we 
Cannot regard them as fully answering the description 
of the prophet in the text, may serve to aid our concep- 
tion of those he had in view, and, at the same time, de- 
servedly call forth from the visible church of Christ, as 
they, from time to time, are permitted to witness numer- 
ous accessions to their consecrated community, the 
grateful and admiring interrogatory — Who are these 

THAT FLY AS A CLOUD, AND A3 THE DOVES TO THEIR 

windows ? The conversion of one sinner occasions joy 
among the angels of God, and may well excite admiring 
gratitude and joy in the hearts of his people on earth. 
But when many turn and subscribe with their hands 
unto the Lord, it surely becomes us to ponder on the 
event with wonder and adoring thankfulness. The fer- 
vent language of the text, however, which the church 
are justified in adopting by existing occurrences, and 
which is especially appropriate to believers, who may 
live at some future day, is not only expressive of the 
manner in which the people of God must regard the 
gathering crowd that are pressing into his kingdom, but 
furnishes some suggestions as to the nature and circum- 
stances of those conversions, which are to mark the 



154 MILLENNIAL SCENES ANTICIPATED. 

opening era of the gospel's universal triumphs. To 
these suggestions, permit me to turn your minds. 

I. Conversions will be numerous. Hitherto the num- 
ber of those who have visibly turned to God, has been 
comparatively small. For many centuries even since 
the reformation, throughout those countries where the 
purest Christianity prevailed, only here and there a 
congregation was to be found in which frequent conver- 
sions were common. Indeed, through a long lapse of 
ages there is most painfully conclusive evidence, that 
only a very few were saved, where the means of salva- 
tion were enjoyed. In our own country, more richly 
blest with the ordinary means of grace than any other, 
nearly half the period of our history elapsed without any 
extended revivals of religion. During one period of 
more than half a century, so rare had they become, that 
they almost ceased to be desired, and even some good 
men viewed them with suspicion. Since that period 
of general declension, revivals have more frequently 
taken place ; and yet many evangelical congregations, 
seldom or never are visited by refreshing seasons ; while 
the more favored have not until very recently, if even 
up to the present time, enjoyed any thing like a pro- 
longed interval of powerful revival. Rarely have the 
largest part of a congregation, been drawn, by feelings 
of engrossing interest, to seek the salvation of their 
souls. It is beginning, indeed, to be otherwise. We 
behold the dawn of the day of great things. Chris- 
tians are learning to expect great things without de- 
spising the day of small things. Revival scenes are be- 
ginning to be common, which our fathers of a former 
age would have hailed, had they occurred in their pe- 
riod of dark and chilling night, as the return of apos- 
tolic times, if not the coming of millennial days. Our 
text looks forward to the perfection and perpetuity of 
such scenes. It foretells, and describes, and therefore, 
ensures the simultaneous and rapid conversion of mul- 
titudes. WHO ARE THESE THAT FLY AS A CLOU© ? 



MILLENNIAL SCENES ANTICIPATED. 155 

In the symbolical language of scripture, a cloud denotes 
armies or multitudes. Scores and even hundreds are 
already occasionally seen, at the same time and place, 
consecrating themselves to the Lord, and assuming the 
bonds of his everlasting covenant. But the day is near, 
in which multitudes, even a whole nation shall become 
his spiritual and devoted people. 

II. The figure in the text intimates the sudden and 
rapid process of their conversion. They will hasten 
to give their hearts and join themselves to the Lord, 
with the speed of clouds on the wings of the wind. So 
large the measure and so powerful the sway of spiritual 
influence which will be vouchsafed, that the work of 
conviction and conversion, will be only a momentary 
agony. Deep and overpowering conviction will con- 
strain immediate submission. A moment of God's pow- 
er will melt the heart into willing and cheerful obedi- 
ence. The reasonableness of duty, the reality of di- 
vine truth, and the substantial nature of eternal things, 
will be presented in such vivid and impressive distinct- 
ness by the illumination of the Holy Spirit, that the 
heart will find its power of resistance gone, and its af- 
fections sweetly drawn towards duty, and truth, and 
heaven. The rushing mighty power of the Spirit, will 
in an instant, like the burst of light from eternity on the 
departing soul, sweep away all the refuges of deceit in 
which the awakened are wont to seek, repose and safety. 
Instead of weeks$ and months, and years of guilty delay, 
the convicted will hasten without delay to " escape from 
hell and fly to heaven." This has not heretofore been 
usually the case with the anxious. They have been 
wont to linger, though dangers threatened, and safety 
invited. And though conversion begins to be a more 
rapid work, yet so much more hurried will be the pro- 
cess — so unstaying will be the speed of the sinner's re- 
turn to God, that this very circumstance may possibly 
be one cause of the surprise and admiration with which 



156 MILLENNIAL SCENES ANTICIPATED. 

believers will exclaim — Who are these that ely as 
a cloud ? 

III. The unanimity of the multitudes of converts to 
righteousness, which we are beginning to witness, is 
another idea which may be gathered from the text. A 
cloud though composed of innumerable minute particles 
of vapor, is one cloud. In many very important re- 
spects all true converts have ever been one. To a very 
considerable extent, they have drunk into one and the 
same spirit. But we are here taught to look for a still 
greater oneness of character and temper. And it is 
grateful to be allowed to anticipate a state of things so 
much to be desired. For our Saviour's seamless ves- 
ture has too long been rent into unnatural divisions. 
Real converts have not been joined together in one 
mind. They have not thought the same things on 
subjects of common interest. Unimportant rites have 
been made to occupy the place of fundamental doc- 
trines. Slight and immaterial disagreement on mere 
speculative points in theology, has reared high separa- 
ting walls between members of the Saviour's household, 
and driven them into cold and distant alienation. So 
that we have reason to bless God, that he allows our 
eye of faith to rest on a coming state of the visible church 
more like Christ. We must be thankful that we can 
see something of this without the eye of faith in the fresh 
accessions to the sacramental host — that the king of 
Zion is causing to take refuge in him. We may de- 
spair of entire unanimity among those whose conversion 
occurred under other circumstances. They, whether 
in the same or different communions, may be expected 
to continue to cherish to some extent conflicting views 
and feelings, until they join the general assembly and 
church of the first born in heaven. But they who fly 
in clouds to Zion, urged by a mightier sway of the 
breathing Spirit from on high, and melted by his purify- 
ing and subduing power, will, by the very circumstance 
of their conversion, become more completely assimila- 



MILLENNIAL SCENES ANTICIPATED. 157 

ted — more entirely one mass. And what but such a 
unanimity, can introduce and perpetuate the Redeem- 
er's millennial reign ? Believers thus one, would ex- 
hibit such a spectacle " as earth saw never." And I 
cannot but think that the gathering crowds of converts, 
who, in this season of unparalleled revivals, are seen 
flying towards the heavenly Zion, are a cloud either 
tinged with some early beams of the latter day or bear- 
ing the bow of promise, a token that the windows of 
heaven shall be opened only to pour down salvation up- 
on the children of men. And if it be so, the spectacle 
is so strange — the features of character exhibited so 
rare, that even the church may well exclaim with sur- 
prise and admiration — Who are these that fly as 



a CLOUD 



IV. The open, undisguised, and fearless course 
which the multitude of converts take, as the millennium 
approaches, may also be indicated by the figure in the 
text. A cloud, especially when bathed in the unquench- 
ed effulgence of the sun, is an object conspicuous and 
attractive through its mild and undazzling glories. — 
There are few objects in nature on which we gaze with 
more unmixed delight. We love to follow the bright 
cloud with our eyes, as it moves along carried by the 
breath of heaven, displaying the forms it receives from 
the element by which it is borne, and the varied com- 
mingled hues it borrows from the sun. But unspeak- 
ably more lovely and attractive is the christian who is, 
in this way, represented by the pen of inspiration. The 
elements of his character are such, that the least acute 
observer can read him through. He is a stranger to 
concealment. There is no assumed sanctity attached 
to his person. He is what he is seen to be. His 
course, though it may seem to distant gazers, inconstant 
and unequal, is the way of the Spirit. He depends on 
that Spirit for guidance and support. Thus borne along 
his steady course — thus displaying his entire self, he 
grows more and more luminous — more and more ethe- 

14 



158 MILLENNIAL SCENES ANTICIPATED. 






real — more and more heavenly, until he is absorbed and 
borne away amidst the unseen glories of a higher sphere. 
Now all christians more or less resemble this character. 
But we are taught to expect it in its fullest develope- 
ment in the character of those, w T ho in swelling multi- 
tudes, are to be converted as the period of the millenni- 
um approaches and advances. Hypocrisy will then 
be unknown among the hopeful converts. No disguise 
will be worn. No deception practised. And no fears 
and terrors from earth or hell, shall stay the hurrying 
flight of those who set their faces towards Zion. And, 
my brethren, notwithstanding the hopeful specimens of 
this character furnished by existing revivals, and with 
all our fervent expectations and high hopes of uncom- 
mon piety in those whose conversion is to prepare the 
way for the Saviour's universal reign among men, think 
you we could behold a company of such converts hast- 
ening to the church, and not be prompted to ask with 
surprise and astonishment — Who are these that 

FLY AS A CLOUD ? ■ 

V. Another suggestion that we may gather from the 
text, is, that those ivho are converted on the eve of the 
millennium, will adopt an elevated standard of piety, 
and make their way towards Zion far above the com- 
mon course of the world. The ordinary course of a 
cloud, is high above the earth. Its path is one which 
no fowl knoweth, and which the vulture' 's eye hath not 
seen. The lion's whelps have not trodden it, nor the 
fierce lion passed by it. In this respect, it is a fit em- 
blem of the christian, of all christians, but especially of 
those who are converted as the period of the gospel's 
final triumphs draws near, and rolls along its millennial 
years. It is peculiar to real believers in every age, 
that they adopt principles and pursue a course much 
above the principles and course of the world. As it re- 
spects their views, feelings, and conduct, they are not 
of this world — they live habitually above it. This is 
true of all who have the slightest marks of genuine piety. 



MILLENNIAL SCENES ANTICIPATED. 159 

But a new order of things is to be expected even in the 
controlling elements and practical developements of 
christian piety. Something like the days of primitive 
Christianity, is to return. Converted sinners are to take 
their standard of holy living more exclusively from the 
book of God, and are to proceed in their new moral ca- 
reer, more exclusively depending on the illumination 
and guidance of the Holy Spirit, and more markedly 
controlled and pervaded by his blessed influences. They 
are more clearly to show that the way everlasting is 
the way of holiness over which the unclean shall not pass, 
but in which the ransomed of the Lord shall return and 
come to Zionwith songs, and everlasting joy upon their 
heads. Instead of having their days of gladness and 
singleness of heart limited to some of the earliest of their 
new career, as has been too much the case hitherto, 
they are to go on their way in simplicity and godly sin- 
cerity, rejoicing and glorifying God unto the end. There 
will be light then, and converts will come to it to have 
all their sinful feelings, views, and pursuits, revealed, 
reproved, and put away. The considerations of world- 
ly interest, will not have the weight of the smallest dust 
of the balance, against duty and the requirements of 
God. No secret reservation — no keeping back part of 
their possessions — no shrinking from sacrifices evidently 
called for, will mark the covenant engagements of new 
converts then. Oh, theirs will be a high way, and it 
shall be for those who are truly converted — and the 
wayfaring men, though fools shall not err therein. For 
no one errs whose heart delights in the high way pf 
practical holiness. No one mistakes duty, whose heart 
is set on finding and performing it. No one is seen 
creeping among the dregs and defilements of this low 
world, who has a heart panting after energies to mount 
upward, end take his course above its debasing ele- 
ments. 

VI. The imagery of the text teaches us to expect, 
that those increasing multitudes of converts who are to 



160 MILLENNIAL SCENES ANTICIPATED. 

usher in the millennium, will be characterized by unusu- 
al humility, harmlessness, constancy, and love. It need 
not be said that all christians possess these graces to 
some extent ; nor is it necessary to show, how rare are 
the instances of those who are not greviously deficient 
in them. Now, Christ's reign cannot be perfect even 
in the hearts of his followers, much less can it be ex- 
tended through human society, until these features of 
his character are more conspicuous in the character of 
those, who are hopefully converted by his grace. Evi- 
dently there must be a great — an almost immeasurable 
advance in these elements of the christian character 
among the members of the church, or there can be 
nothing like the millennium. But we are encouraged 
to look for such an advance — and to look for it soon. 
Not perhaps so much, in those who are already in the 
bosom of the church, as in those who shall now in in- 
creasing numbers be converted and become members. 
The text bids us fix our chief hope on these. Who 

ARE THESE THAT FLY AS THE DOVES TO THEIR WIN- 
DOWS ? The dove is a striking emblem of these lead- 
ing graces of the christian character. This explains 
the meaning of the Psalmist's affecting aspiration — O 
that I had wings like a dove, for then would I fly away 
and be at rest. I would hasten my escape from the 
windy storm and tempest. He knew that a heart hum- 
ble, harmless, constant, and affectionately drawn to- 
wards God, would bear him away to rest. He knew 
that the opposite tempers forbid all mental and spiritual 
rest. Now in the new converts who are to come into 
the church, and constitute its milder glories through mil- 
lennial ages, these graces are so to predominate as to be- 
come the main energies of their moral being — the grand 
spring of their spiritual movements. These graces will 
be as it were so many wings on which they will be lift- 
ed up and carried forward safely and usefully through 
their mortal, and indeed, their immortal career. And 
what spectacles more ineffably lovely can earth be made 



MILLENNIAL SCENES ANTICIPATED. 161 

to exhibit, than multitudes of such converts, impelled 
as by a common instinct, and evincing these graces of 
the Spirit, hastening to their duty, their refuge, and their 
rest, as the doves to their windows ? 

In application of the subject it is proper to ask my 
fellow christians, if they are prepared to desire, and to 
hail with devout admiration, gratitude* and praise, such 
thronging multitudes, as we are allowed to expect will 
ere long be seen turning to the Lord, and hastening to 
enter the church, flying as a cloud and as the 
doves to their windows. If we possess the char- 
acter of living members of Christ's visible church, we 
cannot but long and delight to witness such a scene. 
If we are at all alive to a sense of the value of the ben- 
efits, which such accessions to the church will confer ; 
such displays of divine grace and mercy, are every way 
fitted to excite adoring gratitude. The conversion of 
one sinner, is enough to fill the heart with everlasting 
gratitude. But there is a moral sublimity in the spec- 
tacle of crowds flying to the ark of safety, which may 
well touch and move all that is christian in our hearts. 
Angels look down with interest and pleasure, when a 
solitary sinner makes haste to join himself to the Lord. 
How then should we feel in view of hundreds and thou- 
sands together, speeding their flight to the earthly city 
of our God ? And even, when permitted to behold ac- 
tually before us much smaller numbers subscribing with 
their own hands unto the Lord and vowing eternal de- 
votedness to him, may we not admiring ask— -who are 
these ? They were guilty rebels, bound and hasten- 
ing their way to the city of destruction. They were 
sinners, stupid* careless, dead in trespasses and sins. 
They were but lately contending with the Almighty and 
rushing upon the thick bosses of his bucklers. But they 
are now reconciled to God, and eagerly pressing for- 
ward to seal their everlasting allegiance to his throne. 
They are now awake, alive, active, and glowing with 
holy zeal and love in the service of their Redeemer. 

14* 



162 MILLENNIAL SCENES ANTICIPATED. 

Once polluted sinners, they are now the excellent of the 
earth. Shall we not then adore and wonder at the 
grace, which has reached and converted them ? Have 
we not reason to behold them with admiration, with 
pleasure, and with love ? But who are these : They 
are the ransomed of the Lord, now returning and com- 
ing to Zion with oaths, and vows, and songs, and with 
everlasting joy upon their heads — they are coming to 
obtain joy and gladness, that guilty sorrow and mourn- 
ing may forever flee away. " Oh, scene surpassing fa- 
ble and yet true !" How amiable, how excellent, how 
lovely do sincere penitents — real converts appear in the 
view of heaven and of all on earth that sympathize with 
heaven. If such high sympathies are ours, we shall 
joyfully and gratefully hail their return, and welcome 
them to our fellowship and our hearts, as fellow heirs 
of the same ever during inheritance. If there be any 
consolation in Christ, and we all are truly there, our 
comforts must abound as we receive these new con- 
verts to our household of faith to be mutual helpers of 
each other on our way to meet the brightening dawn 
of millennial day — to meet the opening glories of ever- 
lasting day ! 

There is an obvious application of this subject to 
those present who expect at this hour, publicly to take 
upon themselves the vows of God, and to bind them- 
selves to his service forever. You come not in the 
swelling multitude, which we expect will ere long crowd 
the gate of God's earthly Zion. But we trust you come, 
with something of the spirit and determination which 
are to mark future converts. You come with one ac- 
cord — with one aim. You come as a cloud of wit- 
nesses to the truth, the reality, the blessedness of our 
religion. You come taking the high way to Zion above. 
You come openly, undisguised, and with unaffected 
simplicity and sincerity to give away yourselves to be 
the Lord's. You come with humble, constant and af- 
fectionate attachment to Christ, to his truth, and to his 



MILLENNIAL SCENES ANTICIPATED. 163 

people. You come, we hope, with desires to glorify 
your Redeemer, by exhibiting in your temper and con- 
duct a fair sample of the christian character and con- 
versation, that are to usher in and adorn the period of 
the Saviour's millennial reign on earth. But though 
such are our hopes, we must add a word of counsel and 
caution. Forget not, then, that the transactions of this 
hour can never be recalled. The covenant you are 
about to take upon you, is never to be forgotten — nev- 
er to be broken. You will take a step never to be re- 
traced — unless indeed, you go back to perdition. You 
are to be the Lord's wholly — eternally. Take an im- 
mediate stand on the ground you intend to occupy. 
Determine to be wholly the Lord's on all occasions, in 
all pursuits. From this hour, when you will be known 
among men as professing christians, let it be distinctly 
understood among your associates that your vows are 
a reality — your purpose immoveable. Let the bible, and 
not professing christians around you, be your standard 
of feeling and action. Ascertain what duties your pe- 
culiar talents, station, or opportunities require of you, 
and then lay out your strength. Wait not for more tal- 
ents, but cultivate those you have. Never be moved 
ifrom your holy determination by opposition, ridicule, or 
i reproach. Be acquainted with your bible and your 
1 God. If ye do these things ye shall never be moved, 
but an open and abundant entrance shall be ministered 
unto you into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord Jesus 
Christ. 



sfift-Hi-tfar xiii 



The Gospel a Message of Peace. 



ISAIAH LVII. 19. 

I CREATE THE ERUIT OF THE LIPS — PEACE, PEACE TO HIM THAT 
IS FAR OFF, AND TO HIM THAT IS NEAR, 5A.ITH THE LORD— 
AND I WILL HEAL HIM. 



One great design of prophecy, is to describe the na- 
ture, and to prepare the way for the reception of the 
gospel. The entire canon of scripture, may be viewed 
as embodying a series of successive disclosures of the 
divine purposes of mercy and salvation through Jesus 
Christ. These disclosures are interspersed throughout 
the historical parts of the inspired volume ; but occur 
more frequently in detached portions in the books usu- 
ally denominated prophetical. The abrupt manner in 
which they are often introduced, creates no little obscu- 
rity, and indeed, occasions the principal difficulty in the 
interpretation of prophecy. Much of this obscurity 
may, however, be removed, and the difficulty avoided, 
by attentively watching the frequent and rapid transit 
tion of the prophet's mind from one theme to another. 
If it be kept constantly in view, that to reveal the way 
of life and salvation to fallen guilty man, is the leading 
and all-pervading end and aim of those holy men of old 
who spake as they were moved by the Holy Spirit, there 
will be little danger of misapprehending their meaning, 



THE GOSPEL A MESSAGE OF PEACE. 165 

or misapplying their predictions, in consequence of be- 
ing given in this detached, and desultory manner. The 
consideration of this great fact, taken along with the 
study of the prophecies, must not only greatly assist in 
distinguishing from others, those that relate to Christ 
and his kingdom ; but must likewise contribute much 
to the real benefit, and satisfaction of such an employ- 
ment. For while it will tend to guide the mind safely 
in its inquiries, it will keep before it one of the most 
deeply interesting subjects with which it can be occupi- 
ed. It will prepare the mind to expect, and perceive 
on every page of the bible, the annunciation of the mo- 
mentous truth, that there is salvation for sinners. It 
will relieve it too, from any thing painful or embar- 
rassing in meeting with the sudden digressions with 
which scripture, and especially prophecy abounds. — 
It will enable us, I doubt not, very clearly to see, what 
from the context we should be unprepared to expect, 
and consequently slow to discover, that the passage I 
have selected to make the theme of special considera- 
tion at this time, contains an explicit intimation of God's 
designs of mercy towards his sinful offspring — or in oth- 
er words, is a compendious, though striking description 
i of the gospel, its author, and its efficacy. To these 
i topics, then, allow me to call your serious attention. 

I. The gospel is a proclamation of peace to guilty 
man. Peace— peace, to him that is far off, and 
to him that is near. Perhaps no definition of the 
gospel gives a more correct, and impressive idea of it, 
than this. While it indicates the nature of the overture, 
it shows the character of those to whom it is made. 
'Ever since the first decisive act of human transgression, 
which made man guilty, fallen, and ruined, any com- 
munication from heaven must find him in a hostile pos- 
ture ; not only opposed to the alone source from which 
good can come, but at war with himself, and his asso- 
ciates in guilt and ruin. In this state of ruinous hostil- 
ity to good and to happiness, any message from heaven 



166 THE GOSPEL 

to him, not strictly vindictive in its character — not sent 
forth to aggravate the wretchedness of his own chosen 
doom — not commissioned to execute threatened ven- 
geance, must announce terms of reconciliation, must 
propose conditions of peace, and contain a full disclo- 
sure of means, adequate to effect entire harmony be- 
tween himself and his God, and his fellow men, and his 
own conscience. Other message than this was sent to 
one order of immortal minds, and the consequence was, 
that they are reserved in everlasting chains, under dark- 
ness unto the judgment of the great day. To our race, 
however, though no less rebellious, guilty, and lost than 
they, in the sovereign allotment of Jehovah, a different 
destiny is opened. Peace and good will emphatically 
characterize the dispensations of the Most High to man. 
They constitute the lofty theme of that seraphic song, 
which announced the advent of him who became our 
Peace, and through whom God is reconciling the world 
unto himself. It is thus, the gospel is something more 
than a bare declaration of the divine good will towards 
the human family. It is not simply an offer of peace, 
to beings who have assumed the attitude and put forth 
the acts of rebellion. It brings out to view the method 
of the proposal, and exhibits its perfect consistency with 
the actual character of sinful men, and the acknowl- 
edged perfections of God. It fully answers the inquiry 
which has arisen in millions of agonized minds, how the 
sinner shall so acquaint himself with God as to be at 
peace with him,. In the gospel is delineated, with clear- 
ness and infallible accuracy, the only way in which he 
can be reconciled and return to God. There is spread 
out the chart of his wanderings from the Father of 
lights, in all their wildering mazes. There is depicted 
in appropriate characters the blackness of his ingratitude 
and rebellion. There is to be seen all that is needful 
and all that is possible to be seen by mortals in time, 
of that matchless condescension and love, which accom- 
plished the work of human redemption. In a word. 



A MESSAGE OF PEACE. 167 

the gospel exhibits the Lord Jesus Christ, as the sin- 
ner's sole ground of pardon, acceptance, and hope of 
heaven. All the blessings of salvation comprising peace 
with God, peace with man, and peace with ourselves, 
are to be found in him alone. What is it that estran- 
ges man from God, and fills his mind with alarming ap- 
prehensions of the divine displeasure ? What is that 
which the convicted sinner perceives to lift an insupera- 
ble barrier between himself and the Holy One, and to 
throw back over his soul the blackness of despair ? It 
is unpardoned sin. While this remains nothing can 
bring man back from his estrangement, or dispossess 
his mind of its alarms. How utterly unavailing to such 
a one, is all that is soothing in the prophecy of smooth 
things. To a spirit thus wounded how powerless the 
false cry of peace, peace. But there is one and only 
one who can effectually say to every such sinner, thy 
sins are forgiven thee ; go in peace. It is he who has 
been exalted for this very purpose, that he might give 
repentance, and the forgiveness of sins. He can par- 
don, for he has suffered the penalty of sin. He can 
remove guilt, for he has poured out his own blood to 
wash it away. When the convicted sinner turns an eye 
of faith upon him, the wall of separation between his 
soul and God melts away, and the light of hope breaks 
in upon the gloomy despair of his sin-darkened mind. 
The controversy ends, and peace reigns between hea- 
ven and himself. 

But man is not only an enemy to God in his mind 
by wicked works, he is likewise an enemy to his fellow 
man. I speak not now of that reciprocal enmity which 
dyes in blood the field of national conflicts. The same 
corrupt principle, which there is seen to move so mighty 
an engine with such disastrous effect, has its lesser wea- 
pons which it wields in narrower spheres. It pervades 
with its wasting influence the retreats of social and do- 
mestic life. It developes itself in those feuds, and bick- 
erings, and heart-burnings, and overreachings, and slan- 



168 THE GOSPEL 

ders, which prevail to no limited extent in our best reg- 
ulated communities. Can that man be regarded as a 
friend to his species, or as at peace with his fellow man, 
who is not unwilling to advance his own interest, repu- 
tation, or happiness on the ruin of his neighbors ? Now 
the gospel seeks to reconcile man to man in these re- 
spects. It does this indeed, by its direct tendency to 
extinguish the depraved principle in the human breast, 
by the immediate powerful restraints it imposes upon 
this disturbing force, which is everywhere abroad un- 
settling the foundations of social life, and throwing man 
into ruinous collision with his fellow man. But our great 
Peacemaker who stands between our guilty race and 
the offended Majesty of heaven, aims to reconcile us to 
our fellow creatures by proposing to us his own exam- 
ple — that ye should love one another, as I have loved 
you. How plain the rule, how pure the principle, how 
swaying the motive here presented ! How would the 
genuine impression of his example upon only his nomi- 
nal followers, change the aspect of our world ! How 
entirely would it harmonize the ten thousand conflicting 
interests, pursuits, tastes, and preferences which now 
render christian communities a scene of strife and ani- 
mosities. Were the living image of this example cop- 
ied into the life and conduct of mankind, the turmoil of 
personal contentions, and the din of war would be hush- 
ed into perpetual silence. Violence would no more be 
heard, wasting nor destruction throughout the abode 
of man. Indeed, were the grand principle here recog- 
nized, universally obeyed, we should here on earth com- 
mence a united career of peace, and righteousness, and 
spiritual joy, not to be terminated, but consummated in 
the paradise of God. 

Again, the gospel proposes still more than the crea^ 
tion of this relative peace. There is a delightful con- 
sistency in the aims and tendencies of the gospel. 
While it purposes the production of perfect peace in the 
soul of man, there is nothing partial or conflicting in 



A MESSAGE OF PEACE. 169 

the methods by which this great end is to be effected. 
Could the plan of the gospel extend no farther than to 
our reconciliation with our Maker and our fellow men ; 
could this be accomplished without affecting or inter- 
fering with the state of the little dominion in our own 
bosoms, the peace it would have to offer, would be ex- 
ceedingly defective. It would have to exist amidst the 
restlessness and agitation of warring elements. He 
therefore, who is the sole subject of the gospel message, 
gives us peace with ourselves by rescuing us from the 
slavery of depraved passions, appetites, and inclinations. 
He gives us peace by quieting the disorders and stilling 
the tumults of the soul. Compared with the peace 
which thus ensues, the peace of the world is mere de- 
lirium, and not tranquility. The peace which is the 
result of the extinguishment of the low aims and unholy 
desires of the natural man, being descended from hea- 
ven, retains the impress of that blessed world. It brings 
with it, the pure, satisfying, and durable characters of 
its celestial origin. Such is the nature of the overture 
which the gospel makes to our fallen race. It offers to 
reconcile us to our Maker and to our fellow sojourners 
below, and to give us peace with ourselves. In all its 
distinctive characteristics it is emphatically a proclama- 
tion of peace to the guilty and lost. 

II. God is the sole author of this merciful overture. 

I CREATE THE FRUIT OF THE LIPS PEACE, PEACE TO 

HIM THAT IS FAR OFF, AND TO HIM THAT IS NEAR, 

saith the Lord. This fruit of the lips—this gracious 
proposal, had its origin in the spontaneous benignity of 
the divine mind. The high and lofty One who inhab- 
its eternity, in the unfathomable depths of that eternity 
purposed this wonderful developement of those perfec- 
tions of his nature, which otherwise might have been 
deemed incompatible with each other, thus operating in 
glorious harmony, and resulting in the augmentation 
and wider diffusion of happiness. A plan constructed 
on so broad a scale, and involving results so remote and 

15 



170 THE GOSPEL 

infinite in their bearings, comes stamped with features 
of grandeur, and wisdom, and goodness which speak its 
author Jehovah. The gradual unfolding of this plan 
for so many centuries, speaks the agency of the same 
Infinite One. Indeed, the claim which the Most High 
may be considered as making to this agency in the text, 
is questioned by none who credit the testimony of his 
word. The bible, which is so directly the gift of his 
own inspiration, as to be called with perfect truth arid 
propriety, his word, Is, as I have already observed, a 
series of disclosures illustrating the nature, and proffer- 
ing the peculiar blessings of the gospel. So that the 
gracious overture of the gospel, which we have been 
considering, is as directly and exclusively of God, as 
any object which owes its existence to his creative en- 
ergy. The great scheme of which the proffer of peace 
to sinful creatures through the sacrifice and mediation 
of Immanuel, is the filling up or accomplishment, came 
forth from the exhaustless fountain of his own unsearch- 
able wisdom and benevolence. From the same source 
proceeds all that is encouraging in the promises, all that 
is alluring in the invitations, all that is moving in the 
expostulations, all that is awful in the warnings, and all 
that is alarming in the threatenings with which the word 
of God abounds. 

There is still another sense in which the proposition 
I have founded on the first clause of the text, is true. 
A sense somewhat more accordant with the peculiar 
phraseology used, and which I cannot but think, was 
more specially intended by the Holy Spirit. God is 
the sole author of the gospel message as it comes from 
the lips of his faithful ministers. If it be his as spread 
out on the pages of the bible, it cannot of course be- 
come any the less so, by whomsoever it be uttered. 
Neither the meanness, nor the impurity of the earthen 
vessel, changes the character or lessens the value of 
the treasure. But the faithful minister is a chosen ves- 
sel. He is appointed to a spiritual service. He is 



A MESSAGE OF PEACE. 171 

God's messenger. He is as much now as formerly, 
God's mouth to his people. There is now, I doubt not, 
a most interesting sense in which it is true (though the 
truth may be abused) that God creates the fruit of 
the preacher's lips. If he be faithful, he will secure, 
not in a miraculous manner, but in the use of appointed 
means, such a measure of superintendence, that he will 
be led to dwell on such topics in the range of divine 
truth, as the peculiar circumstances, character, and 
wants of his hearers require. There will be, not mere- 
ly that commonplace appropriateness in the character 
of his instructions, which though it may strike and amuse, 
rarely impresses or edifies the hearers, but something 
like personal adaptedness to the secret workings of the 
heart of individuals ; so that the case of a great num- 
ber, if not of each one of his auditors, will be season- 
ably reached in every ministration of the gospel. Nor 
will the superintendence he may seek and expect, ex- 
tend only to the choice and arrangement of his subjects. 
Divine truth, if it come not " mended from his tongue," 
will be poured forth with such a spiritual fervor — -so im- 
bued with an unction from the Holy One, that while it 
breaks not the bruised reed, and quenches not the smoak- 
ing flax, it breaks in pieces the rocky heart of obsti- 
nate transgressors, and extinguishes the vain hopes of 
presumptuous hypocrites. 

III. The gospel overture of peace to our fallen race^ 
effectually imparts that peace to those only, to whom the 
message comes, accompanied with the healing power of 
divine grace. I will heal him saith the Lord. 
The gospel is, indeed, a specific. It is the only ade- 
quate remedy for the moral disorders of men. It is 
exclusively provided for this purpose, and in all its great 
characteristics, it is singularly adapted to this end. 
Other palliatives may be used. But this is the only 
medium through which a cure reaches the seat of the 
malady. Until this is applied, although there may be 
a fancied relief— although a sort of peace may ensue, it 



172 THE GOSPEL 

will prove to be spurious and short-lived. But it can 
be proposed, and yet not be applied. Its saving appli- 
cation depends on an accompanying special influence 
from Jehovah. It was not the prophecy of the prophet, 
which imparted vitality to the dry bones in the valley of 
vision. It was not the address of the apostle, which 
pricked the hearts and effected the conversion of three 
thousand on the day of Pentecost. Oh ! no. The 
ministration of the word, unattended with the ministra- 
tion of the Spirit, is a dead letter. It is the sword with- 
out the power that wields it. It pierces no heart. It 
arouses no conscience from its slumbers. It alarms no 
fears. It stills not the troubled element of the human 
breast. It offers, but it does not communicate peace. 
It proposes and urges the application of the only rem- 
edy for a fatal disease, and there its agency terminates. 
The overture can do no more. And to how many has 
this been the extent of the gospel's saving efficacy ? 
How many hear, but know not the joyful sound ! How 
many have been lulled into more profound and wake- 
less slumbers, by the sweet tones of proffered peace in 
the gospel. How many strangely substitute in their 
minds the offer for the acceptance, and thus never know 
peace ! With the declarations of the God of truth, and 
so many affecting facts before us on this point, how pow- 
erfully are we urged devoutly to recognize the electing 
sovereignty of the Eternal, and thankfully to refer the 
reign of spiritual peace in the souls of men to the spe- 
cial arrangement of his gracious dispensations. It is 
not of him that planteth or of him that watereth, but of 
God who showeth mercy. After all that the naked 
power of truth, or the efforts of the ministers of truth, 
effect, a healing energy must be added. 

" The still small voice is wanted. He must speak, 
Whose word leaps forth at once to its effect — 
Who calls for things that are not, and they come." 

Among the reflections which crowd upon the mind in 
view of these topics, I cannot forbear just to observe in 



A MESSAGE OF PEACE. 173 

how solemn and affecting a light are seen the duty and 
responsibleness of the christian preacher. In his holy 
office he needs uncommon measures of grace. Jf he 
needs and has a right to expect more special superin- 
tendence than other believers, he must seek, and watch, 
and wait for it. And when he contemplates the nature 
of the agency he is appointed to execute — when he re- 
members that he is the medium through which the God 
of heaven designs to communicate boundless good to 
his fellow sinners — when he thinks that the words of 
his lips may be (if he is faithful) in a sense, the crea- 
tion of the Infinite One— in view of these considera- 
tions, he may well be pitied, if he does not ask that his 
lips and very soul may be continually warmed and puri- 
fied as with a living coal from the altar of his God. 

2. In view of what has been said, it is natural to 
reflect on the privilege and blessedness of such as hear 
the gospel and feel its healing power. The repetition 
of the word peace in the text, imports the greatness of 
the peace. It is unspeakable. It is full of glory. It 
is abiding. It is indistructible. It is independent of 
outward circumstances. It reigns alike in the hovel of 
the poor, and in the palace of the rich. It triumphs 
over the decay of nature. It survives all temporal 
changes. It will outlive time itself, and go along with 
the soul through the endless range of its immortality. 
Christians, how blessed are your ears, that hear the 
proclamation of peace from him who gives not as the 
world gives ! How blessed are your minds that feel 
the peace of God ! God has spoken to your souls, 
and your peace will be as a river whose waters never 
fail. 

3. We learn from what has been said, the duty of the 
impenitent. The gospel comes to them a proclamation 
of peace. It addresses them as in a state of rebellion 
against God, of conflict with their fellow men, and of 
war with their own conscience. It is clearly their duty 
immediately to avail themselves of this only way of 

15* 



174 THE GOSPEL 

peace with God, with man, and with their own bosoms* 
To do this they must cease to be impenitent. The peace 
which God offers to them, is proposed on no conditions 
involving any change in the divine law or government ; 
but on the sole condition of their being essentially 
changed. They must change their attitude of hostili- 
ty against him. They-must become penitent and lowly 
in heart. They must love their fellow sinners as them- 
selves. They must avoid those courses which never 
fail to stir up in their bosoms the corrodings of remorse. 
To this change God calls them, when he says peace, 

PEACE TO HIM THAT IS FAR OFF, AND TO HIM THAT 

is near. He assures them of pardon and acceptance 
on his part, the moment of their penetential return to 
him. • He is ready to receive them, the moment they 
are disposed to seek his favor. As soon as they yield 
their hearts to him ; he will accept them as righteous 
through the merits of his son. How thankfully should 
they accept this offered peace. How unhesitatingly 
should they close in with the gracious overture ! You 
cannot, my fellow sinners, without great criminalness 
and danger, continue any longer to neglect this procla- 
mation of peace. You are placed amidst most solemn 
circum--ianc.es. The gospel of peace comes to you 
now, clothed with a restoring and healing power. It is 
preached with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven. 
Many are healed by the word. Will you, by your en- 
lightened resistance of the truth and power of the gos- 
pel, convert it into the means of aggravating your 
disease, and placing you beyond the reach of cure ? 
You will do this, unless you attend with heartfelt inter- 
est to the gospel — unless you feel a deep concern in its 
disclosures — unless you have some just sense of your 
dependence on the attendant special efficacy of God's 
holy spirit— unless you seek with great earnestness of 
heart the gift of that spirit to newcreate your soul — un- 
less you are inclined with a broken and believing heart 
to cast your whole selves on the sovereign mercy of 



A MESSAGE OF PEACE. 175 

your offended, and yet gracious Creator. And when 
he condescends to make to you such proposals of 
peace — -when the infinite God engages to heal your 
diseased souls, and to restore unto you the joy of sal- 
vation, how can you stand out in stern and desperate 
resistance ? How can you go on to rob your souls of 
peace now, and to increase the fearful certainty, that 
you will remain strangers to peace eternally ? The 
message I bring you this morning, is a message of 
peace. And though I have used my own language and 
adopted my own manner of presenting it, yet so far as 
the truth is concerned, God has created my message. 
If it were otherwise, if it were my own invention to 
awaken and impress, and convert you, you might inno- 
cently treat it with contemptuous indifference. But as 
it is, if you treat it thus, you will do it at the peril of 
your soul's salvation. If you will not give the most 
earnest and obedient heed to these things which you 
have now heard, you will by this occasion be only the 
more prepared for that just recompense of reward, 
which consists in everlasting destruction from the pres- 
ence of the Lord and the glory of his power. 



SE&MOTC XIV. 



Transitory Nature of earthly Things. 



HEBREWS XIII. 14. 

FOR HERE HAVE WE NO CONTINUING CITY, BUT WE SEEK ONE 
TO COME. 



If the journey of ancient Israel, from Egypt to 
Canaan, is not to be viewed as intended to convey in- 
struction, as an emblem or type of the believers 
earthly sojourn, it must be acknowledged to be, in ma- 
ny points, a very happy representation of it. Christ- 
ians, it is well known, are accustomed to recur to par- 
ticulars detailed in the inspired history of that transac- 
tion, as strikingly illustrating many circumstances in 
their religious condition and progress, while in this 
world. Nor can I see why they may not obtain much 
profit in reproof, correction, and instruction in right- 
eousness from noticing analogies between the literal 
pilgrimage of the ancient people of God, and their own 
spiritual course. Certainly they are not forbidden to 
be warned and encouraged by such a view, though they 
are not fully assured that the one is strictly typical of 
the other. Such a use of it is abundantly justified by 
the apostle's evident allusion to it in the text, and some 
verses connected with it. We have an altar, (speaking 
of the christian Hebrews) whereof they have no right to 



TRANSITORY NATURE, &C. 177 

eat, who serve the tabernacle. For the bodies of those 
beasts , whose blood is brought into the sanctuary by the 
priest for sin, are burned without the camp. Wherefore 
Jesus also, that he might sanctify the people with his 
own blood, suffered without the gate. Let us go forth, 
therefore, unto him without the camp, bearing his re- 
proach. For here have we no continuing city, 
but, we seek one to come. This epistle was written 
many centuries after the nation of Israel had been es- 
tablished in the towns and cities of Palestine, and only a 
few years before they were, by a series of most appall- 
ing visitations driven from them, and made to wander 
among the different nations of the earth, without any 
permanent abode. It was for the purpose of consoling the 
christians among them in prospect of these calamities, 
and of reconciling them to the abandonment of their 
dearest earthly possessions, that the apostle assures 
them, that their condition on earth was essentially like 
that of their ancestors, when passing through the wil- 
derness by a succession of temporary encampments. — - 
They had a no more abiding residence than their fath- 
ers. They were passing through a wilderness. But 
it was their peculiar privilege, to have their ardent de- 
sires and confident expectations, placed on a future en- 
during abode beyond the reach of earthly incidents and 
disappointments. 

The fact which the apostle states for the comfort and 
encouragement of his brethren according to the flesh, 
is universal in its character. It is as true of us as it 
was of them, that here we have no continuing city. 
The fact is so much a part of our daily experience, that 
it is never seriously called in question, or considered as 
requiring a single word of proof. Mementoes of it have 
met us from earliest childhood, as constantly as the 
successive days that have come and gone. But though 
we are in no need of being convinced of this fact, we 
are always in need of being reminded of it. For our 
convictions of it are too commonly of a nature to have 



178 TRANSITORY NATURE 

Utile to do with our habitual thoughts, feelings, or con- 
duct. It is scarcely possible we should not be aston- 
ished at the little influence, which the consideration of 
it, has hitherto had upon us. Scarcely is it possible that 
any one of us should not be led to perceive, and imi- 
tate the wisdom of the apostles and christian Hebrews 
in earnestly seeking a future, permanent, and heavenly 
abode. If this be so, I shall not proceed without the 
interested attention of my hearers to some cursory ob- 
servations on each of these several topics alluded to. 

I. / advert to some things fitted to remind us, that 
we have here no continuing citt. Individuals in 
conversing with the past, hear this truth uttered in deep 
and impressive tones by the ten thousand events, which 
have filled up and diversified the few and swift suc- 
ceeding years of their earthly course. The field of 
their memory is scattered thick with facts illustrative 
and confirmatory of this. It is not my wish to silence 
or lessen the force of such evidence, or to withdraw the 
mind of a single individual from personal reminiscences 
of this nature. Let individuals review their own histo- 
ry in reference to this fact. Let the voice of their own 
experience come to deepen their impressions of it. 
What I shall add respects evidences of a more general 
character, and somewhat apart from such private recol- 
lections. 

1 . We meet with mementoes of man's transitory earth- 
ly abode in the works of those, whose life and efforts 
shed a disastrous influence on the best interests of their 
species. It belongs to the moral constitution of the 
world, that man shall have an influence on his fellows. 
Owing to the general depravation of his moral nature, 
a bad influence is more readily extended and perpetu- 
ated. It finds an element in which to live and diffuse 
itself. There is constantly running a current to take 
it and bear it onward through the lapse of ages. So 
that while 

" The good is oft interred with their bones, 
The evil that men do, lives after them.'' 



OF EARTHLY THINGS. 179 

And lives to teach us that they were mortal. Not to 
refer to that signal instance by which our whole species 
was rendered mortal, and at the same time susceptible 
of transmitting an evil influence from generation to gen- 
eration ; in many of the forms of cruelty and crime, of 
pollution and guilt prevalent among men, we are taught 
that numbers preeminent in sin, have passed away from 
the scenes of time. Their image and superscription 
stamped on the world through subsequent periods of 
time, come to remind us that their bad preeminence 
did not give them here a continuing city. We per- 
ceive by prevailing vicious customs and maxims, at 
once, that they lived, and that they did not continue by 
reason of death. Indeed, nearly every species and 
form of sin originated ages far back in some illustrious 
sinner, who lived only long enough to complete the 
work of opening a new channel for human corruption 
to flow in. The very immortality of heroes reminds us 
that they were mortal. The canonization of saints in 
those ages of darkness, which came over the christian 
church, announces to us that they died. They who 
first taught the art and practice of war — they who first 
invented refinements in cruelty — they who first struck 
out the various methods of fraud and dishonesty — they 
who first reared the system of idolatry — they who first 
subjected to the yoke of bondage their fe]low heirs of 
inherent and unalienable liberty — they who first uttered 
the language of impurity, falsehood, or blasphemy — 
they who first converted poetry, music, painting, or 
sculpture into instruments of moral contamination — they 
who first showed how to employ literature and science 
against the cause of God and truth — they who first were 
skilful in perverting and misinterpreting the scriptures 
of God — These all died — not in faith, but perished 
from off the earth ; and live only in their ruinous influ- 
ence which tells us that they have been. Thus have 
we received whatever has had a hurtful aspect on our- 
selves and our contemporaries, through the medium of 



180 TRANSITORY NATURE 

those who have left the world. Almost all the monu- 
ments of vice and crime, of error and sin, of impurity 
and guilt with which we meet, are in this way associa- 
ted with the unabiding character of human condition. 
2. The same fact is introduced to our notice by the 
works of those, who in various ways have proved bene- 
factors to their species. We to whom it is allotted to 
live in these concluding periods of this world's history, 
are surrounded with such works. Earth has become 
covered with them. Contemplate for one moment the 
single department of letters. Our libraries are crowd- 
ed with works, the efforts of minds attached to bodies 
which have been sleeping for ages in the dust. With 
whose minds are our youth most conversant, who are 
availing themselves of the . benefits of a more accom- 
plished and finished course of education.? With minds 
that ceased^ to be active in the world long before this 
continent was known to be a part of it. Their course 
is a sort of pilgrimage through the splendid relics of 
other ages. The great rules and principles of literary 
criticism, and the laws and powers of numbers, with 
which they make themselves acquainted as the founda- 
tion of all their attainments, were discovered and set- 
tled by men who departed from the scenes of this world, 
before it became the scene of the Saviour's ministry. 
So that we can learn nothing from the whole range of 
human literature and science, without learning the truth 
of man's transitory being below. The bible itself, the 
sum of all literary excellence, and whose disclosures 
throw the importance of mere human science into the 
distance, and whose value no power or combination of 
numbers can show — the bible, while it brings life and 
immortality to light, reveals, as merely an authentic 
record, more impressively than any thing else, the pass- 
ing nature of our earthly residence. It presents us with 
a succession of waymarks along "the course of time," 
noting the vanishing ages in their flight, and the succes- 
sive generations of men, which like wave on wave, have 



OF EARTHLY THINGS. 181 

been passing off from the earth for more than a score 
of centuries. Thus in the works of those holy men of 
God who under his inspiration wrote the bible, are we 
reminded of the interesting fact that here we have no 
continuing city. During the ages in which they 
lived, or which their history embraces, not less than for- 
ty thousand millions of our race left the world, 

But there is no occasion to recur to works of these 
remote benefactors, in order to receive admonitions of 
our brief stay on earth. We can scarcely think of a 
blessing which has not come to us through the interven- 
tion of those of our species, who have finished their 
course on earth. Where are our pilgrim fathers, who 
two centuries ago with prayers, and labors, and self- 
denials, and sufferings, laid the foundation of our rising 
empire ? Where is that constellation of great and wise 
men, who only half a century since, signed the great 
charter of our national supremacy ? Only one of them 
still lingers above the horizon of mortal life, to tell us 
that they were, and what they were. But we abide in 
the very field, where others ceased from their earthly 
labors. We walk in the streets which they laid out. 
We dwell in houses which they built. We worship in 
sanctuaries which they reared and consecrated. In a 
word all the desirable circumstances of our existing con- 
dition, are associated with mementoes of its brevity. 
Our literature, our arts, our sciences, our religion, our 
laws, our liberties, our dwellings, our temples, and even 
the city of our earthly residence, come to us with a 
voice from the departed, admonishing us that they can- 
not be ours long. 

3. We are admonished of the same fact by events 
which have occurred in relation to many, who hereto- 
fore shared with us the injurious and beneficial influ- 
ence from past generations of men. While they have 
been marching along with us in the path of life with vig- 
orous and confident tread, their strength has been weak- 
ened in the way, their days shortened, and they have 

16 




182 TRANSITORY NATURE 

left us. They seemed to have only just started in the 
race, when it was finished. Though not far advanced 
ourselves, the field of our recollections abounds with 
many affecting instances of common, and yet prema- 
ture departures. They abode with us only a few little 
rounds of years, and then looked or pressed the unut- 
terable farewell. Before we had learned how dear 
they were to us, the clod of the valley was pressing up- 
on their bosoms. Some perishable memorial may stand 
up to tell where their relics repose. But there are 
more constant, present, and enduring remembrances 
of their brief abode below — 'remembrances that will not 
depart from us through the little remnant of our yet un- 
finished course, but constantly remind us how short our 
time is. Every trace of their former presence with us, 
has a tongue to admonish us, that our residence here is 
only for a short and uncertain interval. The habita- 
tions where we abode together, the scene of our retired 
walks in company, the spots where we kneeled togeth- 
er around the throne of mercy, those portions of " the 
christian volume" which engaged us mutually in high 
and delightful conversation, those peculiar spiritual tri- 
als about which we were wont to seek of each other 
counsel and comfort, the house of God to which we 
went in company — these all are so many mementoes of 
their early, and of our own speedy departure. 

4. We have proof that our residence below must he 
short in our utter inability, either to retard our own 
advancement through time, or to prolong life. It mat- 
ters not, what may be our situation here, outward cir- 
cumstances have no power to cause time to pause and 
linger in his career. However strongly attracted by 
earthly scenes, and however desirous we may be to 
perpetuate a residence amidst scenes grateful to our 
taste and feelings, we are ever hurrying through them. 
We would, it may be, prolong the gladsome and care- 
less season of childhood. We would sport away scores 
of years in the amusements and adventurous enterprises 



OF EARTHLY THINGS. 183 

of youth. We would retard the wings of time, that we 
may long be absorbed in the more dignified, honorable, 
and gainful avocations of manhood. Nay, we would, 
if we could, even cripple time's pinions, and groan away 
a long interval beneath the accumulating infirmities, 
pains, and sorrows of old age. But we cannot. These 
periods of human life hasten away in rapid succession, 
and yet so unperceived, as to be almost unheeded and 
uncredited. Each is actually gone, before we are 
aware it is fully come. We find ourselves actually old, 
before it has occurred to us, that we have ceased to be 
young. Now every marked point that occurs in our 
earthly career — the flight of days and the return of Sab- 
baths — the lapse of months, and the return of the new 
year day — the progress of years, and the succession of 
youth to childhood, of manhood to youth, and of old 
age to manhood, remind us, that as they cluster along 
the range of mortal life, we are drawing near its close, 
and cannot abide here long. 

Tokens of the unabiding nature of the city of our 
earthly residence, as apparent from our inability to hin- 
der our own rapid approaches towards another world, 
appear in an impressive light, when we contemplate 
the prominent circumstances which at once fill up the 
fleeting interval, and serve, as in some sort, measures of 
its duration. There is not a single thing connected 
with the city Gf our residence here, to which we can 
cling as something substantial and abiding. Our firm- 
est grasp on these things cannot detain them a moment 
in our possession, or ourselves a moment amidst the 
scenes of earth. We cleave to friends. The very 
fibres of our hearts become entwined about them, 
But if they become not unworthy of such endearment, 
they take their early flight from us, and beckon us away 
to a more enduring substance. If riches ever come to 
us, they meet us flying to disappoint some other deni- 
zen of time, and not to abide our portion. If any of 
the enviable distinctions of the world cluster around us? 



184 TRANSITORY NATURE 

they fade and vanish, before we have fastened on them 
an enduring hold. If earthly beauty comes to solicit 
our gaze and woo our hearts, we see it withering be- 
neath the fingers of corruption, just as we begin to look 
to it for some permanent good. And were it not so ; 
if these circumstance's were more substantial in their 
nature, yet we have no power to drive off the array of 
diseases, that are ever gathering about the city of our 
habitation. We cannot shield our bodies from their 
assaults. We cannot recover them from their attacks. 
We cannot arrest the commission of death, and force 
the terrific king to allow us our eternity on earth. No, 
these unstaying accompaniments of our present abode, 
and our powerlessness to evade the laws of human des- 
tiny below, are ever reminding us, that here we have 

NO CONTINUING CITY. 

5. Let me just add in the last place , that we are ex- 
pressly and perpetually reminded of this in the scrip- 
tures of God. God has not only disclosed the fact in 
the evolutions of his providence ; has not only written 
on every object in the city of our abode, that it is not 
a continuing city ; but he has written it on the tab- 
lets of heaven, and spread them before us. He has 
sent abroad all over the earth the heralds of his truth to 
make known to all its dwellers, that this world is only 
the birthplace of their being — the starting point of their 
course — that a passage is opened between it, and ever- 
lasting mansions by the atonement and mediation of his 
Son. These are truths written on each page of this 
holy volume. They are ever echoing through these 
his earthly courts. They come to us in the soft whis- 
pers of the dawn of each successive Sabbath day. Yes, 
from the excellent glory of his throne in the heavens, 
from which will one day issue the sentence against his 
enemies of everlasting banishment from his presence 
and the glory of his power, he now condescends to 
teach us by ten thousand voices, that here we have 
no continuing city, 



m EARTHLY THINGS. 18& 

IL The second general topic to ivhich I am to ad- 
vert for a moment, is, that notwithstanding the numer- 
ous and impressive mementoes of this fact, ivhich are 
ever before us, we are astonishingly insensible to it. 
There can be no more need of proof of this, than of the 
other fact to which it directly relates. And a recur- 
rence to evidence of either, would be unnecessary, if 
convictions of their truth were the object in view. The 
hope is, that by looking at some evidence that we are 
very insensible to the fact of which we are so variously 
and strikingly reminded, we shall so deepen our impres- 
sions of it as to render our convictions more decidedly 
practical. 

One sign of our indifference to the fact of our having 
here no continuing city, is, that it does not habitu- 
ally employ our thoughts. We are beings distinguished 
and dignified among the creatures of God by our fac- 
ulty of thinking. Indeed, we are gifted with an intel- 
lectual constitution, which forbids that we should live 
without thinking. Now many of us have had minds 
active and busy with thoughts for twenty, thirty, forty, 
or fifty years. We are enabled also to follow back our 
trains of thought. We have the faculty of summoning 
home and gathering before the mind its past exercises. 
Now when we collect our thoughts which have for years 
been coursing through our minds, and look at them, do 
we find that the class which may be termed our habit- 
ual thoughts, have had much to do with the considera- 
tion of our short continuance here, and of our swift ap- 
proaches towards an eternal state ? Have not our 
thoughts on these subjects been rather transient, unwel- 
come, and uncherished intruders ? When we have 
seen the time drawing near, in which we were to change 
the place of our temporary residence for another, where 
we expected to spend years or perhaps the whole of 
mortal life, did not the fact take up many of our thoughts f 
And if, while we have known assuredly, that we . are 
speedily to leave our present associations, employments, 

16* 



186 TRANSITORY NATURE 

and residence for an everduring scene of things, we 
have thought but little of it, is it not a sign, that we are 
very indifferent and insensible to the momentous fact ? 

Another token of our disregard of it, is that it has not 
been the chosen and delightful theme of our conversa- 
tion* Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth 
speaketh. We have been intimately connected in the 
city of our abode with many who were actually, if not 
professedly transient sojourners with us below, and on 
the point continually of taking their departure into a 
future invisible and everduring world. We have been 
in habits of free and familiar conversation with them 
on topics of mutual interest. We have not been want- 
ing in the use of words, whether with or without know- 
ledge. But could we call to remembrance our conver- 
sations— ^-how much of it would be found to relate to 
this confessedly most interesting of all subjects ? Could 
we minutely recollect the words we have used, how 
many of them would be seen to have been employed 
on the single fact, that we have here no continuing 
city ? Perhaps even fewer than might have been so 
used as to deserve to be classed among idle words. 
Perhaps some of us, professed pilgrims on earth, have 
never been heard to speak of that circumstance which 
makes us such. 

Our want of feeling in relation to the fact of our short 
continuance here, shows that we are indifferent to it. 
We are beings who feel as well as think and speak. 
Even the merest trifles are known to have awakened in 
us the most intense feeling. We have been thrown in- 
to raptures or into agonies, by circumstances that de- 
served not the expense of a single slight emotion of the 
mind. When some little interests have been pending 
or approaching a crisis, the feelings of our minds have 
been such, as to take away our rest and to enfeeble our 
health. But if we glance at the past train of our feel- 
ings, how many of them will be discovered to have been 
awakened by, and clustered around the circumstances 



OF EARTHLY THINGS. 187 

of our present condition and future prospects ? Will it 
not appear, that while we have been " warm on other 
subjects, we have been cold on this ?" Will not such 
a glance reveal to us much zeal expended on vanities, 
much strength of desire in the pursuit of things which 
perish in the using, much fervor of attachment to for- 
bidden objects, and yet but slight and transient sensibil- 
ities to this ? O, does not such a retrospection present 
the astonishing truth, that while time has been career- 
ing away and eternity hastening on, that while earth has 
been developing its short lived and unsubstantial char- 
acter, and eternal realities have been soliciting our re- 
gard and inviting us away, we have had little or no feel- 
ing on the subject ? 

Finally, that we have been blind and indifferent to 
the momentous fact of our having here no continuing 
city, appears from the little we have done in the busi- 
ness of a preparation for our final departure into an eter- 
nal state. Though no efforts can detain us long in our 
earthly abode, we cannot be prepared to exchange it 
comfortably and safely for one to come without much 
exertion. The only safe passage from this world to 
the next, is through a strait gait and a narrow way, that 
cannot be entered and pursued without a constant ago- 
ny of effort. There is the work of repentance, of faith, 
of selfdenial, of charity, all lying between the gate of 
the city of our earthly residence and the gate of the city 
of our God. Now is it not true of most of us, that we 
have been standing in a posture of comparative idle- 
ness, although we have been standing on the brink of 
eternity ? We have done much to unfit us for heaven, 
but what have we done in the work of preparation for 
those pure and everlasting mansions ? Will not an im- 
partial review of our efforts in this direction, testify that 
we have as yet been astonishingly regardles of the spee- 
dy entrance we are confessedly to make upon the ama* 
zing scenes of a boundless range of retributions ? 



188 TRANSITORY NATURE 

III. As a brief improvement of the subject, let us 
contemplate the wisdom of the apostles and christian 
Hebrews, who in view of the fact that here we have 

NO CONTINUING CITY, SOUght ONE TO COME. Though 

from our thinking, and saying, and feeling, and doing 
so little in reference to this great fact, it is but too evi- 
dent that we have been astonishingly regardless of it, 
yet true wisdom dictates a very different course. If our 
indifference to the fact made it cease to be one, the 
case would be otherwise. But our city of residence 
here is not abiding, We must speedily leave it. Near- 
ly A hundred thousand millions of our race have 
already left it. We see how utterly vain are any 
attempts to prolong our abode here. We see that we 
are hurrying onward to the point where we must bid it 
a long adieu. The very city of our habitation, is fall- 
ing to ruins around us. Time in his unstaying flight is 
touching and crumbling every thing to which we can 
lay hold of here. In this state of things — just as we 
are on the eve of escaping from expiring time — of leap- 
ing from a sinking world, we are presented with the 
offer of an enduring residence in heaven. To seek 
that, is to make our present unabiding condition most 
subservient to our best good. To seek that, is to strip 
the present city of our abode of all its most uncomfort- 
able accompaniments. To seek that, by using this as 
not abusing it, and by improving our opportunities and 
privileges, is to give us something of the peace and rest 
of the future, in the present. To seek it in this way, 
is to gain a present assurance that we shall not seek in 
vain. To seek it in the only successful way, by not 
abusing this, will enable us without a pang of regret or 
fear to leave this. Our treasure will be laid up in the 
one to come, and we shall welcome the message that 
calls us away to its enduring inheritance. Seeking it 
by a faithful use of our privileges, and a constant disci- 
pline of our hearts, we shall be habitually ready to take 
our final leave here, and to receive the gladsome wel- 



OF EARTHLY THINGS. 189 

come of the blessed inmates of our heavenly home. 
Then shall we be prepared to say in the words and in 
the spirit of the author of the text — / am now ready to 
be offered. 

Tell me, then, fellow travellers to eternity, is it not 
wise thus to seek the enduring heavenly mansions? 
Think of the horrors that must rush into the souls of 
those who neglect thus to seek them, when they come 
to be pushed out of life. Think of the anguish which 
must wring the bosoms of these stupid professed pil- 
grims, who have continued to cling to earth, and neg- 
lect to seek heaven, when earth gives way beneath them, 
and heaven opens not before them. Those who fail to 
gain an everduring abode in heaven, must find one in 
hell. All must have a continuing city in eternity. 

Tell me, then, ye fellow heirs of immortality, is it 
not wise to keep our steady minds fixed upon, and our 
earnest efforts directed towards the city of our God? 
Our seasons of privileges are on the unstaying pinions 
of time. We cannot summon back those that are gone 
by. We cannot blot out the record of the past. We 
cannot hide it from the inspection of Omniscience. 
That record will appear in sunbeams, when the world 
has passed away and we are before the judgment seat 
of Christ. Let us be concerned for the present and 
coming interval of mortal life. Let us mark down the 
opening future for the high pursuits of unfading glory. 
Then, as the years of heaven shall career away, we 
shall be measuring their revolutions by the swelling tide 
of our everlasting pleasures ! 



§ERMOI XV 



Preparation for Death urged. 



MATTHEW XXIV. 44. 

THEREFORE BE YE ALSO READY: FOR IN SUCH AN HOUR AS YE 
THINK NOT, THE SON OF MAN COMETH. 



Were we to estimate events by their direct and ob- 
vious relation to the soul and its destiny, we could not 
hesitate to pronounce the event of death, as decidedly 
the greatest of which this world is the scene. The light 
of nature shows it to be great, by exhibiting it as the 
last of man that can be distinctly and satisfactorily dis- 
cerned in its obscure and dubious revelations. In the 
light of scripture it is seen to be great, being presented 
as clearly the end of man's probationary existence, and 
the beginning of his endless retribution. That an event, 
which cannot be contemplated but as thus great and 
momentous, should come to be regarded with indiffer- 
ence and approached with unconcern, must remain a 
matter of surprise, notwithstanding we are continually 
familiar with the fact. And that, living in a world which 
has become the great sepulchre of the thousand genera- 
tions of men already passed away, we should forget that 
our graves are ready for us- — that, hastening perpetually 
towards the bourn of mortality, we should habitually 
forget that we are mortal, can be accounted for, only 
by supposing in man a native state of unpreparedness 



PREPARATION FOR DEATH URGED, 191 

for the event. They cannot be ready to die, who, 
though they have a general conviction that sooner or 
later their life must be over, are without such lively 
sensibilities to the reality and importance of the event, 
as keep their thoughts turned to it, and their endeavors 
unremitted to meet it safely and joyfully. Because man 
is not naturally inclined to think, and feel, and conduct 
in relation to his approaching dissolution, as though it 
were a near and momentous reality, he is not naturally 
in a state to enter into rest. The scriptures uniformly 
address those who are reluctant to converse with death, 
as destitute of the requisite preparedness for it. And 
when they urge the attainment of such preparedness, 
they often only exhort men to consider their latter end — 
to number their days so as to apply their hearts to wis- 
dom — to question their hearts as to what they shall do 
at the close of life. In the text, our Saviour recognizing 
the nature and practical influence of a state of unfitness 
for death, directly exhorts men to be ready to die 
from the consideration, that they know not how soon he 
will come to remove them into the eternal world. He 
knew how all who are unfit to die, perpetuate that un- 
fitness by putting the event far off in the obscurities of 
the indefinite future. He knew how, although they saw 
others die, some prepared and some unprepared, they 
would neglect their own preparation so long as they 
could bring themselves to banish for the present, all 
thoughts of their coming end, or to view it yet far re- 
mote. And therefore he utters a most important and 
comprehensive exhortation, followed by a no less im- 
portant and affecting motive — Be ye also ready : for 
IN such an hour as ye think not, the son of man 
cometh. As beings confessedly drawing near a world 
of unending retribution, and strongly inclined to omit 
for the present, that preparation which alone can pre- 
vent that world being to us a world of woe, we have a 
deep concern in this passage from the lips of our Saviour. 
There are two principal inquiries suggested by it, which 



] 92 PREPARATION FOR DEATH URGED. 

it is hoped we may usefully consider. What is implied 
in the state of readiness here enjoined, and why should 
we immediately attain that state of readiness ? 

I. What is implied in a state of readiness for the 
event of death ? They are not in that state who brought 
to the end of life, make a virtue of necessity, and affect 
a willingness to die, a resignation to an allotment which 
they would, but cannot resist. They are not ready, 
who think they are, because they have never sufficiently 
attended to the subject, to know what preparation is 
requisite. They are not ready, who are reposing in the 
delusive notion, that all in some way or other will be 
made meet for heaven, whatever may have been their 
character and life up to its close. I observe then, 

1 . That such readiness implies previous solemn atten- 
tion to the reality and unspeakable importance of the 
event. Before any such attention can have been given 
to the subject, there must have been a deep conviction 
of the worth of the soul, of the amazing character of the 
world of retribution, and of the difficulty and necessity 
of making the needful preparation. But such a convic- 
tion will keep the mind familiar with the event, will 
make it assume the character of reality, and will give it 
a greatness and importance, infinitely surpassing any 
other occurrence in time. To the dying man, and, 
which is essentially the same case, to the man who 
keeps death habitually in view as near, how insignificant 
appear the brilliant vanities, and stirring events which 
attach and agitate the world. To him there is more of 
impressive reality, more of deep and thrilling interest, 
more of absorbing importance in that approaching break- 
ing up of this earthly tabernacle, than his mind can con- 
ceive of throughout the whole remaining range of time. 
If his mind has been given to the contemplation of death 
from a conviction of the soul's value and danger, he will 
be concerned to see how he has lived, how his course 
of life must appear when displayed in the light of eterni- 
ty along side of the holy requirements of God ; and how 



PREPARATION FOR DEATH URGED. 193 

his secret thoughts and aims, as well as his conduct, 
will bear the test of that trying day, when every man's 
work will be tried of what sort it is. Now can it be, 
that any one thinks of his soul that can never die, of a 
state of retribution that will never end, and of a day 
which is to seal the soul's everlasting destiny, and yet 
feels no solicitude to ascertain the state of the soul, and 
to learn what is likely to be the consequences of death? 
Are not many of us entirely strangers to such solicitude ? 
Then most assuredly we are not ready to die. 

2. To be thus ready, implies that there has actually 
been much earnest endeavor to be in a state, safely and 
comfortably to exchange tuorlds. They who give a so- 
licitous attention to the reality of approaching death, 
from a conviction of the infinite worth of the soul, and 
the infinite dangers which threaten it, will not only feel 
this conviction and give this attention, but will put forth 
honest and continued endeavors to be safe in the final 
day. Now what must be the result of a faithful inquiry 
into the heart and life, as in view of a dying hour ? — 
Will it be to assure a man, that his state of heart and 
course of life have been such, as to merit the approba- 
tion of a holy God ? Surely not. It will be to con- 
vince him, that in all things he has offended, and come 
short of rendering the requisite obedience to the law of 
God, and that he is justly liable to the penalty of diso- 
bedience. He will be humbled and alarmed. He will 
see the necessity of a radical change in the temper and 
tendencies of his mind. He will see the propriety of 
repentance for sin, and feel anxious to be filled with god- 
ly sorrow. He perceives his need of a righteousness 
not his own — of a Saviour apart from himself, or an 
arm of flesh. He contemplates objects and pursuits in 
a new light. He ceases to labor for perishable suste- 
nance, and begins to labor for that which endures unto 
everlasting life. A sense of want and helplessness, of 
guilt and misery, endears to him the Saviour who is 
Christ the Lord, — a Saviour who can deliver from 

17 



194 PREPARATION FOR DEATH URGED. 

the love and power of sin, as well as from its meri- 
ted punishment. Nor does he hesitate willingly and 
joyfully to commit his soul into the Saviour's hand, as- 
sured that he is able to keep it safely through death and 
through eternity. In short, before any one can be 
ready to die, there must have been a conviction of 
guiltiness and ruin, a solicitude about the way of salva- 
tion, a perception of the suitableness and adequacy of 
Christ as a Saviour, a deliberate acceptance of him as 
such, and a settled intention of renouncing whatever is 
inconsistent with it. Now I am doubtless speaking in 
the presence of those who never felt their sinfulness and 
ruin, never sincerely repented of sin, never relied on 
the merits of Christ, never renounced one sin because 
it was offensive to the Saviour, and never devoted them- 
selves to his service. Let all such remember, that at 
present they are not ready to die. However fair their 
pretentions to a correct moral deportment, however use- 
ful their acts of benevolence, and however extended and 
distinguished their worldly reputation, unless they are 
the fruits and evidence of faith and love which are in 
Christ Jesus the Lord, they must still be without the 
one thing needful to fit them for death. 

3. To be ready to die, implies that the event be kept 
habitually in view. The man that is truly awake to 
eternal things, will be in the habit of measuring actions, 
not by the standard of worldly opinions — not by their 
seeming propriety and necessity, but by the test of a 
dying hour. He will inquire of his own heart, what he 
shall think of men and things, of actions and events, 
when he shall be called to breathe his last. He will 
set the Lord always before him, as acting beneath his 
holy and omniscient eye, making his glory the end, and 
his word the rule of his conversation. This is a prac- 
tical, heartfelt, spiritual readiness to depart. A man 
may say he is concerned to be ready, has faith in Christ, 
repents of sin, and denies himself, and yet not be ap- 
parently at all awake to the event. Many professed 



PREPARATION FOR DEATH URGED. 195 

christians are not practically ready, because the reality 
and importance of it, are not kept distinctly and stead- 
ily before them. O, if it were so, how cautious would 
it make them in word and deed — how diligent in keep- 
ing their hearts — how temperate in all things— how just 
in their dealings with men — how fervent in their devo- 
tions — how zealous for God — how careful to redeem 
time — and how dead to the world and its enjoyments. 
Ah ! they would then live as becomes their profession — 
live as becomes the dying — live as those who are teach- 
ing earth what heaven is — live as those who have be- 
gun to live the life of God ! To live thus, would make 
the dark valley of the shadow of death smile before us. 
To live thus, would bring us not trembling, but exult- 
ing to the verge of our mortal being. To live in this 
manner, would make us ready and waiting for our last 
change. 

These are some of the marks of a readiness for. a dy- 
ing hour. Do they belong to us ? Have we honestly 
and seriously looked into our state with respect to eter- 
nity? Are we convinced that heaven is an unspeaka- 
bly blessed reality, for which we are naturally unpre- 
pared ? Has this shown us our need, and brought 
us to accept of Christ as our Saviour ? Are all our 
hopes centered in him ? Are we able in the review of 
the past, to detect some growing conformity in our tem- 
per and actions to the word of God ? If not, I know 
not how we can think of death without terror, or ap- 
proach it without risking the loss of all that can be of 
any worth to us forever ! 

II. I now come to consider the other principal in- 
quiry suggested by the text — Why should we immedi- 
ately attain a readiness for death 9 That this attain- 
ment should be made before a man dies, every one, who 
believes in a coming world of happiness or misery, must 
admit. That it should be immediately made by all who 
have hitherto neglected it, might be fairly inferred from 
the fact, that the Saviour and Judge of the world en- 



196 PREPARATION FOR DEATH URGED. 

joins it. We ought to be immediately ready to die, 
since it is necessary in order to be properly ready to 
live. No man lives as he ought, who does not live pre- 
pared to go to heaven at death. But I will confine my- 
self to those motives by which our Saviour enforces his 
own exhortation in the text — For in such an hour 

AS YE THINK NOT, THE SON OF MAN COMETH. Our 

Lord is speaking here of his coming to take men away 
by death. It may, therefore, be observed, 

1. That the words imply the certainty of death in the 
case of every individual. This truth is one of revela- 
tion and one of experience. It is appointed unto man 
once to die. JYo one hath power over the spirit to re- 
tain the spirit, neither hath he power in the day of death, 
and there is no discharge in that war. Only two indi- 
viduals of our species are known to have escaped this 
common lot of man. No one expects to escape it, when 
the subject is viewed in the light of scripture or experi- 
ence. Yet how many there are, whose conduct with a 
loud tongue, tells that they have no expectation of death. 
Though every day they live, there are opened on earth 
ten thousand graves for our dying race, they anticipate 
110 such event to themselves. Their calculations re- 
spect no such event. The day of death has no place 
in their calendar. But their refusing to think of it and 
to prepare for it, neither prevents nor delays it. The 
event is unchangeably fixed. The bounds of every in- 
dividual's mortal career is set, and he cannot pass it. 
He may come to it so absorbed in his worldly schemes, 
as not to heed it until he feels its icy fingers. He may 
float along to it on the tide of worldly ease, affluence, 
and pleasure, until he finds himself thus floated into the 
abyss of woe. But he cannot adjourn the day of the 
Saviour's coming. And what a day it must be to such ! 
What a revelation will then take place of the character 
of all who neglect to be ready. What disappointment, 
surprise, and consternation will rush into their depart- 
ing souls. With what emphasis, then, does the consid^ 



PREPARATION FOR DEATH URGED. 197 

eration of the certainty of a coming hour of death, ad- 
dress the exhortation of our Saviour to those who con- 
sider not their latter end — Be ye also ready. 

2. The expression in the text implies that the dying 
hour will come unexpected. At such an hour as ye 
think not. The approach is usually gradual and im- 
perceptible. Like a thief in the night, it silently and 
secretly creeps upon man. Even those who do not 
avoid the thought of it-, do not commonly expect it when 
it comes. It comes sooner than they had been calcu- 
lating. They had seen no decisive symptoms of its 
near approach. Life had seemed to be moving along 
in an even current. No great changes had occurred to 
indicate such a crisis near. They have no means of 
even forming a probable conjecture as to the time when 
their eternity is to begin. It is in respect to men in 
general, as the flood was to the antidiluvian world. It 
finds them in their accustomed pursuits, not expecting 
these pursuits are to be interrupted and suspended for- 
ever. How often do even good men, who have for 
many years been conversing with death at a distance, 
find themselves unexpectedly within a single step of 
the eternal world. How much then, does it concern 
us to be always ready, for at such an hour as we 
cannot know before hand, and shall not be likely to ex- 
pect, the Son of Man will come to remove us by death 
into that state, where there can be no further prepara- 
tion for the judgment of the great day. Because he 
will certainly come, we ought to expect him. Because 
he will shortly come, we ought to be in a posture of 
constant expectancy. 

3. The words of our Saviour imply still more. They 
imply that the event of death will surprise men in an un- 
prepared state. This must be eminently true of those 
who labor to banish the thoughts of it from their minds. 
A consciousness that they are not ready, connected 
with a reluctance to make any preparation, renders them 
averse to cherishing any serious thoughts of dying. This 

17* 



198 PREPARATION FOR DEATH URGED. 

state of mind must greatly contribute to make them blind 
to any indications of approaching death. Those, there- 
fore, who are not habitually ready, will in all proba- 
bility be surprised in a state of utter unfitness, when the 
summons reaches them. The event may occur soon 
and suddenly ; but what if it should not. The same 
wretched fallacies, which tempt men to neglect being 
ready to day, will continue with increased power to 
tempt them to do the same tomorrow. Delay only em- 
boldens the wicked to venture greater, acts of presump- 
tion. Because sentence against an evil work is not ex- 
ecuted speedily, therefore the heart of the sons of men, is 
fully set in them to do evil. How fearful is this con- 
sideration. How dreadful must be the consequences 
of being thus surprised in a course of determined neg- 
lect of preparation for death, increased and perpetuated 
by the delay of the event. The consequences of sur- 
prise in such cases, are described by our Saviour in 
verses connected with the text. If that wicked servant 
shall say in his heart, my Lord delayeth his coming, the 
Lord of that servant shall come in a day when he look- 
eth not for him, and at an hour that he is not aware ; 
and shall cut him asunder, and appoint him his portion 
with the hypocrite— there shall be weeping and gnash- 
ing of teeth. Surely, there is reason, why men should 
be repeatedly and urgently exhorted to be ready to 
leave the world. Who can remain uninfluenced by the 
affecting motive by which the Saviour enforces his kind 
exhortation ? If we are swayed by this motive we shall 
not say, I will attend to the concerns of my soul to- 
morrow — tomorrow I will seek to be ready to die. For, 
we know not but a surprising death may defeat forever 
all our purposes for tomorrow. This night our soul may 
be required of us. 

I have introduced this subject with a hope of being 
able through the mercy of God to press it on the imme- 
diate solemn attention of those of my beloved hearers, 
who are careless and yet unprepared for a dying hour. 



PREPARATION FOR DEATH URGED. 199 

It is the compassionate and omniscient Saviour, who in 
the text bids you be ready for the end of mortal life. 
Did he not know what he said ? Did he not know that 
a certain, sudden, and dreadful death awaits the im- 
penitent ? Think you he did not know, that unless you 
heed his warning, and prepare to die, the day of your 
death will bring to your departing spirits overwhelming 
evidence that you are ruined forever ? Yes, he knew 
all this. And will you go on to make the dreadful ex- 
periment, and try whether these things are true ? Is it 
a small thing to give up all hope of heaven ? Is it a 
trifling thing to renounce all dependence on Christ ? 
Is it a little matter to challenge God to spend the fierce- 
ness of his wrath upon you ? If not, how can you ven- 
ture yet to treat with contemptuous neglect, the kind 
warnings and invitations of Immanuel ? You are, per- 
haps, emboldened by a hope of a prolonged life and late 
repentance. But can such an expectation be reasona- 
ble ? It may be safely averred, that no man ever yet 
found such a hope resting on a good foundation. They 
who cherish it, " keep in store" 

;; One disappointment sure to crown the rest; 
" The disappointment of a promised hour." 

To hope for this with a present neglect of known, and 
most reasonable, and urgent duty, is emphatically not 
only to hope against hope, but to hope against reason, 
experience, and the word of God. Such a hope is built 
on the spider's web, on the vanishing vapor, on the 
fleeting shadow, on the passing wind ! But you are 
young, are in health, are strangers to disease ; and so 
for a season were more than half of those whose remains 
are sleeping in yonder place of sepulchres. There is 
no such thing really as a long life in this dying World. 
Man that is born of a woman is of few days. A late re- 
pentance and preparation for death, are of a distressing- 
ly questionable character, and, in nearly every instance, 
may be pronounced, no repentance — no preparation ! 



200 PREPARATION FOR DEATH URGED. 

O that those of you, dear hearers, who are emboldened 
in sin by the hope of long life and late repentance, could 
have one view of those thousands and millions, who 
trifled with their convictions and made light of the calls 
of the gospel, until these calls and convictions became 
the occasion of aggravating their condemnation, and of 
ministering fuel to their tormenting flames ! The view 
might not, indeed, induce you to be ready for the 
coming of the Lord, but it would show you what must 
become of you, if you continue to act the same incon- 
siderate part. It would show you, that your present 
course must bring you into the same place of torment. 
But there is a place of torment where delaying and 
trifling sinners have their endless abode. Will you con- 
tinue to speed your course thither ? Will you allow 
yourselves to be any longer deluded with the vain hope 
of lengthened days and late preparation for eternity ? 
It is a vain hope. 

" Death is not at a distance. — No, he has been on you, 
And given sure earnest of his final blow — there is but 
A moment and the world's blown up to you ; 
The sun is darkness, and the stars are dust." 

Be persuaded, then, as you value your souls, to give 
now all diligence to be ready for a dying hour. Flee 
to the only refuge. Plant your souls, your hopes, your 
all for eternity on the Rock of ages. You will then 
be ready to live, and ready to die and live with God. 
But the admonition in the text is applicable to be- 
lievers. Christians who have their hopes safely fixed, 
are not always in a right frame to meet the event of 
death. The wise and the foolish are sometimes in sea- 
sons of darkness, sleeping together. But it ought not 
so to be. They should watch and be ready. They 
should keep their souls in a posture to depart at a mo- 
ment's warning. By frequent selfmquiry they should 
have the great concern between God and their souls in 
readiness. They should be habitually in view of the 
opening scenes of the coming world. They should be 



PREPARATION FOR DEATH URGED. 201 

always deriving grace to help, and mercy to pardon 
them through the blood of Jesus, from him who is mighty 
to save. Is this our case, my brethren ? Then we 
need not shudder at the approach of death. We may 
view the king of terrors without terror. We may lift 
up our souls in holy joy amidst all the horrors of a con- 
suming world. We may even desire to speed the final 
advent of our Redeemer to remove us hence — and daily 
pray — Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly ! 



8ERM-0J* XVI 



True Wisdom its own Reward. 



PROVERBS IX. 12. 

IF THOU BE WISE, THOU SHALT BE WISE FOR THYSELF J BUT 
IF THOU SCORNEST, THOU ALONE SHALT BEAR IT. 

No means are left unemployed in the scripture to 
persuade men to become wise unto salvation. It is ad- 
dressed alike to our hopes and our fears. It urges us 
to be truly wise alike by the terrors and the mercies of 
God. Throughout its sacred pages, are combined in 
the most felicitous manner, and in the most perfect pro- 
portion, an exhibition of the privileges, and an enforce- 
ment of the duties of our religion. While obedience to 
the divine requirements, is imperatively enjoined as a 
duty growing out of the very condition and relations of 
dependant creatures, the personal benefits of piety, are 
presented as no unallowed motive to such obedience. 
If to obey God, were not in the most direct way possi- 
ble to contribute to a man's best good, it would not af- 
fect the duty and the obligation of his obedience. But 
revelation teaches us, that the gracious economy of the 
divine government under which we are placed in the 
present world, always connects a man's happiness with 
his obedience to his Maker's precepts. So that he can- 
not contemplate separately his duty and his interests ; 



TRUE WISDOM, &C. 203 

nor discharge the one without securing the other. In 
the light of scripture, the overtures of the gospel are 
seen presented to our acceptance, not as a mere arbi- 
trary demand upon us, in complying with which we 
shall rather confer, than receive a favor 5 but as a prof- 
fer of an infinite good by accepting which, we shall 
chiefly and eternally benefit ourselves, and by rejecting 
which, we shall ourselves be the principal and ever- 
lasting sufferers. This is what the text asserts. If 

THOU BE WISE, THOU SHALT BE WISE FOR THYSELF ; 
BUT IF THOU SCORNEST, THOU ALONE SHALT BEAR IT. 

The bible is full of the most impressive exhortations, 
entreaties, calls, and commands urging men to seek true 
wisdom. And yet the world, even that part of it where 
the scripture is circulated, read, and preached, is full 
of those who scornfully decline the requisite pursuit of 
the wisdom which is from above. The price is put into 
their hands to get it, but they spend it for that which is 
only profitless and ruinous. They convert the means 
of attaining it, into the occasions of weakening their 
desires, and abating their pursuit of it. Because these 
means are so abundant and perpetual, they encourage 
themselves in delay, thinking that tomorrow shall be 
as this day, and much more abundant, " till wisdom 
is pushed out of life," and they become wise too late. 

A secret consideration with some which serves to 
perpetuate a guilty and destructive inattention to the 
solicitations of divine mercy in the gospel, and against 
the influence of which the text is especially designed to 
guard men, is that by attending with the requisite earn- 
estness and interest to these things, they shall confer a 
favor on the Most High, at the expense of their own 
present ease and guilt. That infinite Being, who so 
graciously condescends to invite men to secure the sal- 
vation of their souls, has, indeed, no pleasure in the 
death of the wicked. Every thing in his word and 
providence, shows that he desires and seeks to effect the 
conversion of sinners to himself. Were it not so, his 



204 TRUE WISDOM 

gospel would not have been sent to them. Were it not 
so, their guilty and rebellious lives would be cut short, 
and sudden destruction would early come upon them. 
This every sinner deserves. This every sinner would 
inevitably experience at the very dawn of his moral 
existence, if God did not rejoice over the repentance 
and conversion of the wicked. But there is no favor 
conferred by such acts. They are yet unprofitable ser- 
vants, and have done no more than they were under in- 
finite obligations to do, from the first moment they learn- 
ed to depart from the living God. No one can be prof- 
itable unto God,, as he that is wise may be profitable un- 
to himself. Nothing can profit him who is the sole pos- 
sessor of the universe of mind and matter. Nothing 
can add to his happiness, who possesses in himself an 
underived and inexhaustible source of blessedness. But 
they who become reconciled and conformed to such a 
being, though they may lose their present spurious ease 
and quiet, shall gain a good which no finite measure can 
reach. 

It is true, that when a man becomes illuminated, re- 
newed, and spiritually wise, he contributes essentially 
to benefit the world. He adds to the joy of redeemed 
sinners on earth and in heaven. He adds to the amount 
of that holy moral influence among men, which is con- 
tributing to the regeneration of this sinful and polluted 
world. He stands up a new light to guide the darken- 
ed and bewildered sons of earth up to heaven's un- 
clouded and unending glories. He cannot be conceal- 
ed. He cannot live unto himself, or die unto himself. 
And yet if we look at the grand result of his wise pre- 
ference of God to the world, of the pleasures of piety 
to the gratifications of sin, and of eternal to temporal 
interests, it will be seen, that however beneficial his wis- 
dom proved to others, he was preeminently and em- 
phatically WISE FOR HIMSELF. 

When it is asserted that he who treats with scornful 
neglect the salvation of the gospel, shall alone suffer the 



ITS OWN REWARD. 205 

consequences, the assertion is doubtless to be under- 
stood with some qualifications. The meaning of scrip- 
ture must be learned by comparing scripture with scrip- 
ture — spiritual things with spiritual. One sinner de- 
stroyeth much good. No person however obscure, can 
neglect religion and the soul without doing something 
towards leading others to do the same. Every person 
who shall finally, through such neglect, come short of 
heaven, will have contributed to some extent, to plunge 
others into perdition. There is a sense, then, in which 
all the evil which results from a man's persevering re- 
jection of Christ and his salvation, will not come upon 
himself. They who despise the gospel inflict, in the 
present world, a most serious evil on such as do not. 
Scarcely any thing occasions the spiritual disciples of 
Christ a deeper anguish of soul, than to witness the 
conduct of men, favored with the means of salvation, 
obstinately treating it with contemptuous neglect. It 
was in view of such conduct, that one holy man could 
say — Rivers of waters run down mine eyes, because 
they keep not thy law. Good men, then,, do now suf- 
fer from the sins of the wicked. The reproaches of 
them that reproach their Lord, fall upon them. But 
these reproaches cannot reach them beyond the grave. 
Nothing of the sinner's terrible retribution will ever 
come upon them there. And when it is considered 
how wretched is the existing state of all who will not 
obey the truth — how inevitably true it is, that there is 
no peace to the wicked — and how awful is the doom 
which awaits them in the world to come; it "may with 
singular emphasis be said to every such one — if thou 

SCORNEST, THOU ALONE SHALT BEAR IT. No One 

shall bear it for you. You scorn him on whom was 
laid the iniquities of us all. No circumstances shall 
alleviate the weight of your coming woes. You shall 
agonize forever, unsupported, beneath their amazing 
power. 

18 



206 TRUE WISDOM 

In further illustration of the subject it is proper: to 
inquire, when and under what circumstances it will ap- 
pear, that true believers were wise for themselves. 
It jean never appear, that they were unwise ; or that 
they did not seek and secure their highest interests. 
Worldly minds may pronounce their wisdom folly in 
sacrificing a less for a greater good. But if it is wis- 
dom to gain a preparation for events, it must be appa- 
rent, that sincere believers have been wise for them- 
selves, at all the great points and amidst all the cir- 
cumstances in the range of their being, which are suit- 
ed to show the necessity and value of security against 
difficulties and dangers. 

They who are truly wise, show that they are wise 
for themselves in the various trials and afflictions of 
life. True religion or wisdom is the only solace for 
the troubles, the only antidote for the miseries of the 
present life. They who have it must stand strong, 
where all who have it not must fall. They who have 
it must rise in moral strength and purity, where all be- 
sides must sink. What is there to which men without 
religion, can have recourse for security and support a- 
midst the numberless calamities that assail human con- 
dition ? They can have recourse to riches. But they 
profit not in the day of wrath. Hear what an apostle 
says to a class of persons who had made them their 
confidence. Go to now, ye rich men, weep, and howl 
for your miseries that shall come upon you. Your rich- 
es are corrupted. Your gold and silver are cankered, 
and the rust of them shall be a witness against you, and 
shall eat your flesh as fire. Ye have heaped treasures 
together for the last day. What can they do to shield 
from miseries, that bring so much misery in their train ? 
They cannot purchase relief from pain. They cannot 
yield health in sickness. They cannot buy us friends 
in adversity. They cannot charm away anguish from 
our hearts, and secure the reign of peace there. They 
cannot purchase back from the grave, our friends who 



ITS OWN REWARD. 207 

have paid the debt of nature, and gone there to moul- 
der into dust again. What can philosophy do for us in 
such circumstances ? It can attempt to teach us to bear 
up in stern silence, in sullen apathy, in heartless forti- 
tude, but it can give us no inward energies to lift us 
up. It has no spiritual vision to lead us, that we may 
commune with invisibles, and borrow strength and 
peace from the unseen world. Nor is there any thing 
beneath the skies, could all the resources below that 
high world be gathered into the possession and yielded 
up to the disposal of men, which could contribute any 
thing more effectual to reach their exigencies in the 
afflictions of life. But they who have the religion which 
the gospel describes and produces, are not without 
something to take away the force and overwhelming 
power of worldly calamities. They have something 
which makes them patient — not stupid, not obstinate, 
not enthusiastic — but patient — enduring as in view of 
what is not seen. What if they are laid upon a sick 
bed, or stripped of worldly goods, or bereaved of ob- 
jects of endeared affection, and left solitary and deso- 
late, their souls are in health, their treasure is in hea- 
ven, and there they expect shortly to meet the whole 
family of the redeemed. What are temporal reverses 
to them, while they know in themselves, that they have 
in heaven a better and an enduring substance. What 
are sufferings to them, so long as they are persuaded, 
that the severe visitation is working for them the in- 
heritance of immortal glory ! If we contemplate spirit- 
ual christians, then, in the trying circumstances of the 
life that now is, we shall not fail to perceive, that even 
here, where the first fruits of piety only are, gathered — 
where its minor benefits are shared, where its feeblest 
powers are exerted, there is no little gain to the sub- 
jects of true godliness, and that such as have true wis- 
dom, evince that it is not a vain thing to be wise. 

Would you behold still more convincing evidence, 
that he who is wise, is wise for himself, go and 



208 TRUE WISDOM 

stand by the bed of the dying christian. The scene 
where one of our fellow creatures is about to leave the 
shores of time, and to enter on the career of everlast- 
ing retribution, in interest and solemnity-, has no parallel 
on earth, and resembles more the scenes which the eye 
of faith sometimes descries amidst the coming world. 
When marked by no strong exhibitions of the character 
and feelings of the departing spirit, it is impossible to 
contemplate it without having our thoughts spreading 
their eager pinions to measure the range of its opening 
destiny. Yet what is in itself so full of solemn inter- 
est, and connected in our minds with every thing that 
can move and absorb them, is not seldom rendered 
doubly affecting by presenting the case of one, who af- 
fords no token of a meetness for God's right hand. In 
such cases, where the reason is not obscured, the con- 
science not seared, and all the sensibilities of the soul 
are awake, there is something to give us some faint im- 
pressions of the horrors of the second death. How 
have we seen marks of a heart that would not pray, 
would not confide in the divine mercy, Would not 
burst in penitence, while all the powers of the soul were 
in the posture of a stern reluctance to quit its earth- 
ly tenement. How have we seen in the burning eye 
balls and the despair-written features, painful presages 
of the quenchless fire and the deathless worm ! Now 
look to one who is dying in the Lord. Behold he pray - 
eth. Every breath is prayer or praise. His hope 
steadily anchoring his soul beyond the fluctuations of 
earthly things, springs alone from confidence in the 
sovereignty of the divine mercy in Christ. There is no 
rebellion of the heart against the way of salvation. There 
is no shrinking back from his opening destiny. Peace, 
and hope, and joy beam from his eyes just closing in 
death, and sit in the last'smile which not even " the 
dying strife" can disturb. He has no fear. His love 
has extinguished it. He knows that his Redeemer 
liveth, for he feels his presence. He knows that hea- 



ITS OWN REWARD. 209 

ven will soon be his home, because he has sought no 
other, is educated for no other, has a taste for no other, 
and faithful is he that promised. His inward consola- 
tions more than counterbalance all the agonies of dis- 
solving nature. And as he languishes into life, his feel- 
ings prompt the song — O death, where is thy sting — O 
grave, where is thy victory ! While we thus mark the 
contrast between one dying without hope, and one dy- 
ing in the Lord, shall we not acknowledge, that the 
genuine christian shows in his final hour, that he is 

WISE FOR HIMSELF ? 

There is yet another point in the range of man's be- 
ing, when those who are wise unto salvation, will evince 
their wisdom to be a personal benefit to them of incal- 
culable worth.. It is the day of the final revelation of 
all things. One of the great ends of this ultimate dis- 
closure, is to present to the universe marks of their wis- 
dom, who secure the one thing needful — choose the 
good part — buy the pearl of great price. These marks 
will be revealed not only by unfolding the history of 
their religious course on earth, but by exhibiting the is- 
sue of that course — the end of their faith. And by 
such a developement it will be seen, that while they 
have not been living to themselves, they have been wise 
for themselves — while they have not sought their 
own, but the things of Christ, they have gained as the 
gracious reward of him whose interest they labored to 
promote, the glories and felicities of heaven. By de- 
spising the riches, the honors, and the pleasures of the 
world, they will be seen to have gained the durable 
riches, the unfading honors, and the pure satisfying and 
endless pleasures of the upper world. The scriptures, 
though by no means minute in their details of the amaz- 
ing proceedings of the judgment day, are sufficiently ex- 
plicit to apprise us, that while the wise, and the great, 
and the renowned among men, if destitute of inward 
piety, are sentenced to outer and eternal darkness and 
sorrows, the most unknowing and obscure child of God, 

18* 



210 TRUE WISDOM 

who has made choice of his favor as better than life, 
shall be welcomed by the Judge of quick and dead, to 
the inheritance of that kingdom which was allotted to 
such, in the counsels of eternity. Then they that be 
wise, shall shine as the brightness of the firmament for- 
ever and ever. If then, you would have a full impres- 
sion of the personal benefits of piety, in the light of 
revelation, anticipate the disclosures and decisions of 
the last day. See how nothing but saving piety or true 
wisdom, gains the acceptance and the rewards of the 
heart searching Judge. But behold how that, what- 
ever be its attendants, secures for its possessor, a place 
in the mansions of heavenly love, purity, and peace. 
Follow in thought that accepted and glorified saint along 
the stretch of his eternal progression in light, and knowl- 
edge, and holiness, and blessedness ; and say — is not 
he that is wise, wise for himself. Much as oth- 
ers may be benefited by his example, do not the great 
and more important advantages of his religion, come to 
himself? Is not his the whole of the promised everlast- 
ing recompense of reward ? 

The proper illustration of the subject, requires that it- 
be briefly considered in what sense, and when, he that 
scorns the offers of mercy and the blessings of religion, 
shall suffer the consequences alone. It belongs to the 
nature of sin, that he who commits it, should suffer the 
most from it. Sin and suffering belong together. It 
is impossible to break their union. But there is entail- 
ed on the commission of sin something more than what 
may be called its natural consequences. God has 
threatened the infliction of punishment on those who 
sin. The meaning of the text is, that he who scorn- 
fully neglects the offers of salvation made in the gospel, 
shall be punished for it. As such a rejection of such a 
blessing, indicates the independent actings of one's own 
mind and heart, whosoever is guilty of it, though others 
may have remotely contributed to the sin, yet the sin is 
his own, the result of his own unconstrained act, and he 



ITS OWN REWARD. 211 

alone shall bear it. He may have had those as- 
sociated with him — he may have had parents and rela- 
tives, who had a guilty agency in leading him to this 
course, for which they will suffer punishment, unless 
they become penitent. But the course he pursued was 
his own chosen way, and none but himself share the in- 
iquity and the punishment of it. Nor does the man, who 
goes on from year to year, to treat with contemptuous 
neglect the messages of mercy and salvation, by any 
means escape now in his fearful advances towards final 
ruin, something of that private, personal, solitary en- 
durance of his own sin in this respect. He bears it at 
all those points and in all those circumstances in his 
mortal career, which are especially suited to show him 
his need of the religion he scorns. He bears it in the 
privacies of his own bosom, when he finds himself with- 
out any thing to sustain him amidst the reverses of life. 
He bears it, when he sinks overwhelmed by the billows 
of worldly trouble. He will bear it in this way, when 
he stands on the verge of a coming world, and when all 
his hopes from the present are vanished. But especially 
will those who scorn the salvation of the gospel, feel the 
weight of the punishment of their sins, when at the final 
day, they perceive that they have madly rejected and 
despised the only being in the universe, by whose gra- 
cious assistance they could be prepared for that trying 
hour. And thenceforth forevermore, will each one of 
them know what it is to bear the punishment of their 
unreasonable and presumptuous wickedness, in new ele- 
ments of woe, always beginning and never ending. 

We may see from this subject, that it is not a vain 
thing to be truly wise. No one can be so, and not do 
much to bless a world still lying in wickedness. He 
will be a constant reproof of the folly and wickedness 
of such as depart from God and despise the Saviour. 
It is however, in reference to the personal advantages 
of being wise, that I chiefly speak. Wisdom is a de- 
fence. It secures from dangers that throng the path of 



212 TRUE WISDOM 

human life. It proves a munition of rocks against the 
assaults of every foe to the soul. It is a support. Noth- 
ing but religion can bear up the soul through the mul- 
tiplied troubles of life. If it proves not here to be an 
effectual cure for all the miseries of man, it affords- the 
only alleviation which human sorrows know. It yields 
benefits, where nothing else can. It fills the dying man 
with unearthly joys. It makes all the terrors of death 
vanish. It spreads light through the gloom of the grave. 
It gives the soul pinions to mount upwards from the sins 
and darkness of earth to the unending enjoyment of the 
holiness and happiness of heaven. In a word, it makes 
and peoples heaven. The grand results of its benefits 
are to be measured by eternity. Human language — 
created things cannot represent them. But if we are 
wise we shall know them, for we shall be wise for 
ourselves ; and all the ineffable results will be meas- 
ured by our own everlasting progression in bliss and 
glory ! Who will not be wise ? 

The subject teaches us, that every individual in an 
important and interesting sense, determines his own des- 
tiny. If he will incline his ear unto ivisdom, and ap- 
ply his heart to understanding — if he will cry after 
knowledge, and lift up his voice for Understanding — if 
he will seek her as silver, and search for her as for hid 
treasures ; then shall he understand the fear of the Lord, 
and find the knowledge of God. But if, on the contrary, 
he neglects such a pursuit of religion — if he refuses and 
disregards the calls of mercy — if he sets at nought the 
counsel, and despises the reproof of the Saviour, then 
shall he eat of the fruit of his own way, and be filled 
with his own devices. Now every man may thus suc- 
cessfully seek the purity and happiness of religion. No 
one is obliged to treat the subject with scornful indiffer- 
ence and neglect. But if he does, the fault, the guilt, 
and the punishment will be alone chargeable to himself. 
He will achieve his own ruin. He will bring upon him- 



ITS OWN REWARD. 213 

self the threatened swift destruction. Will you con- 
sider this, all ye who are living estranged from God, in 
disobedience (o his law, and in the stubborn rejection of 
his proffered salvation ? Hear the kind expostulations 
of the Saviour whom you neglect. How long, ye sim- 
ple ones, will ye love simplicity, and the scorners de- 
light in scorning, and fools hate knowledge. Turn you 
at my reproof : behold I will pour out my spirit unto 
you, I will make known my words unto you. 

From the subject may be learned the nature of the 
retribution, which is to be measured out to man in the 
future world. It will be personal. Every one shall 
give an account of himself unto God. Every one shall 
receive the thing done in his body, according to that he 
hath done, whether it be good or bad. He that shall 
then be found to have been wise, though he lived in 
the midst of heathen ; though he was alone in an un- 
godly community ; though he dwelt in a household that 
called not on the name of God, shall receive according 
to his own personal character, and not according to the 
character of those around. He shall be seen to have 
been wise for himself, though all his kindred and 
associates continued to despise his religion and his God. 
So likewise, shall he that delighted in his scorning, 
though he was the child of believing parents, and of 
many prayers, though he was educated in the ways of 
religion, though he mingled in society with spiritual 
christians, bear alone his awful retribution. The pie- 
ty and prayers of parents and friends, will not help him 
then. He will share no more in their sympathies. They 
cannot, if they would, and doubtless would not, if they 
could, intercede for him and attempt to lessen the weight 
of his woes. No, these circumstances, as they served 
to aggravate his guilt, will tend to deepen the horrors 
of his hell ! This is neither fancy nor fiction. It is the 
plain and eternal truth of God. And now, perishing 
sinners of every description, you may be wise for 



214 TRUE WISDOM ITS OWN REWARD. 

yourselves. You may dwell forever at God's right 
hand. But if you continue to scorn the gospel and the 
salvation I preach, though you pain my heart, and the 
hearts of all believers by your conduct, yet the terrible 
evil of it, you must bear alone. Alone, solitary, deso- 
late, ruined, you shall grope your dark way through the 
ages of eternal perdition, borne down beneath the guilt 
and the punishment of your own sin ! 



SERMON XVII 



The Wisdom of Moses's Choice. 



HEBREWS XT. 25. 

CHOOSING RATHER TO SUFFER AFFLICTION WITH THE PEOPLE 
OF GOD, THAN" TO ENJOY THE PLEASURES OF SIN FOR A 

SEASON. 



The power of example is proverbially great. Its in- 
fluence is visible in every grade of human society, and 
in every department of human pursuit. And although, 
from the state of the world and the general character 
of men, it becomes an instrument of evil, it is capable 
of the most valuable uses. Aside from its direct effi- 
ciency in the formation of character, it is employed to 
great advantage in laying open the intricacies and in 
explaining the difficulties of science, of philosophy, and 
the arts. Nor is its utility as an instrument of illustra- 
tion, confined to these comparatively inferior points of 
inquiry. In morals and religion, it is made to furnish 
very striking illustrations, and, in this way, the most ir- 
resistible enforcements of truths, which otherwise could 
only have remained obscure and powerless. It is dif- 
ficult, if not impossible, to convey to common minds, 
by simple description, clear ideas of any of those com- 
plex features of character which mark the pardoned 
and justified sinner. It would be a hopeless undertak- 



216 THE WISDOM OF 

ing to attempt to describe to the full apprehension of 
such as have no personal experience of its nature, what 
the scriptures denominate /«^A. But a single instance 
of it, presented before us in real life, reveals to every 
mind what it is. The scriptures usually adopt this 
mode of teaching the great doctrines of grace. In the 
chapter containing the text, the apostle after a very 
concise description of true faith, introduces an extend- 
ed group of examples, illustrating that description and 
showing in what respect, faith is the substance of things 
hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen. This 
whole chapter has somewhere been denominated a 
grand historical picture of the power of faith in God. 
The personages are so admirably exhibited in appropriate 
light and shade, and so, happily grouped together, that 
while each retains his own individuality, the whole 
seem blended in a common element, and pervaded by 
some great leading features ; and thus each individual 
as an example of faith, is in some sort clothed with the 
moral power of the whole. . On one side is the first 
martyr to the cause of God, with his acceptable sacri- 
fice. Near him is seen one who so closely walked 
with God, as to reach the gates of eternity by a new and 
mysterious path. Not far off appears the second father 
of the human family, who, moved with fear, prepared 
an ark, and became the connecting link between the 
old and new world. In a prominent place, stands the 
Father of the faithful in that terrible act of holy mag- 
nanimity by Which he gained that appellation. There 
stand too, the long afflicted, yet finally triumphing Isaac 
and Jacob, uttering with their expiring breath the in- 
valuable patriarchal benediction. Conspicuous among 
these splendid portraits, stands that chosen servant of 
the Most High, who chose rather to suffer afflic- 
tion WITH THE PEOPLE OF GOD, THAN TO ENJOY THE 
PLEASURES OF SIN FOR A SEASON. 

Educated in all the arts, and sciences, and literature 
of a highly refined people, and an heir by adoption to 



217 

the throne of the most powerful empire then existing on 
earth, he voluntarily renounced all these circumstances, 
so full of attractions to worldly minds — he cheerfully 
relinquished ease, affluence, honor, pleasure, and pow- 
er, for the more pure and durable gifts of righteousness. 
This renunciation of what is highly esteemed among 
men — this unhesitating relinquishment of all that the hu- 
man heart naturally clings to, was the operation and 
evidence of his faith. It gave him extended views. 
It enabled him to look at things in their broad connex- 
ions and relations. While it enlarged his views, it ex- 
panded and purified his heart. While it planted him 
on that sublime summit of spiritual contemplation, from 
which he could at once survey the gladsome region of 
the promised land, and all the countless paths by which 
earth's wandering tribes seek it, it so elevated and puri- 
fied his affections, and so governed and guided his 
choice, that he did not hesitate to cast in his lot with 
the people of God, though an afflicted, despised, and 
persecuted people, and to take their path to the land of 
promise, though a narrow, difficult and forsaken path. 

As his choice in this case, is substantially in all the 
great principles it involves, the choice of every believer, 
it can scarcely fail to be interesting and useful to con- 
template some of those considerations, which tend to 
evince the wisdom and prudence of such an election. 

I. The affliction of the people of God is of short 
continuance. It may here be conceded, what is implied- 
ly asserted in the text, that they are an afflicted people. 
The children of Israel who in their national capacity, 
were a designed type or representative of the spiritual 
Israel, the holy nation, the peculiar people of God, from 
age to age, were continually in circumstances of af- 
fliction. Every step of their course to their sought in- 
heritance, was opposed. Dangers were on every side 
of them as they pursued their line of march. The ene- 
mies whose cruel dominion had aimed by various and 
protracted methods to crush and annihilate them, be- 

19 



218 THE WISDOM OF 

fore they had decidedly set their faces towards the good- 
ly land, followed them with relentless fury in their ear- 
liest movements ; and when by repeated defeats they 
were compelled to retire from pursuing them; their 
spirit waked up other foes to besiege their path and 
dispute their progress. Nor were these guilty nations 
the only occasion of their affliction. They had occa- 
sions of calamitous reverses, instruments of the sever- 
est suffering, engines of the most desolating power with- 
in their own camps among themselves. These consti- 
tuted their most painful scourges — these brought the 
most consuming afflctions upon them — these seemed to 
wither and waste their energies when outward calami- 
ties were withdrawn. And thus it is with the spiritual 
people of God. It is not the tyranny, the oppression, 
the slavery of the sinful world from which they have es- 
caped — it is not its continued hostility and persecuting 
vengeance — it is not the seas, and mountains, and des- 
erts that lie in their way, which prove most afflictive to 
them. It is something more closely entwined around 
their mortal existence. It is something that has been 
allowed to accompany them in their heaven-directed 
course. It is something that they have even admitted 
to a communion with their very hearts. It is that guil- 
ty and accursed thing, which invites and aids the as- 
saults of outward foes ; and which raises and arms with 
heavy and deserved violence, the chastening rod of 
their everlasting Friend. Because he is such a friend, 
he denies them rest on earth. The outward circum- 
stances of annoyance which he permits, are only instru- 
ments of his unwearied, though often apparently severe 
kindness, by which he urges them beneath the shelter 
of his own omnipotent protection. The sicknesses, the 
losses, the bereavements, the disappointments which 
afflict them, are methods employed by the same kind 
hand to expel their inward foes, and thus to guard them 
against suffering evil from those without — to give them 
a spiritual purity which at once raises the soul above. 



21^ 

suffering and prepares it for unmingled blessedness. 
But not to proceed any farther in showing that the chil- 
dren of God are emphatically an afflicted people by 
thus tracing the analogy between them and his ancient 
chosen tribes; we may see the truth of the remark, by 
a single glance at that illustrious crowd of witnesses, 
which the apostle has so skilfully grouped together in 
the eleventh chapter of his Epistle to the Hebrews. — 
What was it but their deep and varied affliction, that 
so strikingly developed the power of their faith ? They 
were all suffering believers. But they did not suffer 
long, They all died in faith. The same is true of all 
the long train of departed saints that have finished their 
course on earth. Were one great monument to be erec- 
ted to perpetuate their memory through the little re- 
maining interval of this world's history, it might with 
great truth be inscribed on its perishable structure — nay 
it is inscribed on the imperishable table of heaven's 
eternal record — These all died in faith. Before they 
died, to the eye of their faith, even centuries of the se- 
verest temporal affliction seemed light and momentary. 
And how does such a period of suffering appear to them 
now ? Not even a drop, compared with the flowing 
ocean of their eternal pleasures. Mortal life is the ut- 
most bound of the believer's affliction. There is no 
suffering for them beyond the last throb of mortal pangs. 
But let no one conclude, that because the children of 
God are an afflicted, they are therefore, a wretched peo- 
ple in the present life. It is very far otherwise. Their 
afflictions do not make them wretched. They are of- 
ten joyful in tribulation. They have seasons of peace 
worth more than an eternity of tumultuous sinful pleas- 
ures. Faith yields present benefits. It brings home to 
the soul some elements of future blessedness. The 
godly inheret all that is good below the skies, while their 
afflictions are purifying and ripening them for what eye 
hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor heart conceived of bliss 
and glory on high. There is present gain in godliness, 



220 THE WISDOM OF 

which those who seem willing to lose its future rewards, 
would do well seriously to consider. 

II. Another consideration suited to show the wis- 
dom of the choice which Moses made, is that the afflic- 
tion of the people of God ends in eternal happiness.— 
God in the fixed and unalterable arrangement of his ad- 
ministrations, has set the one over against the other. It 
seems too, as though in addition to the establishment of 
this immutable connexion of present and coming desti- 
nies, God had impressed on the minds of men some- 
thing resembling an instinctive recognition of the ex- 
istence of such a connexion. The person who express- 
es an opinion, that a life of afflicted piety here does not 
terminate in an endless life of glory and blessedness 
hereafter, does it in the face of his own irrepressible 
consciousness of the contrary. Every dictate of his 
reason and every feeling of his heart, concur in the 
truth, that the suffering saint shall not suffer beyond the 
season of probation. But were it otherwise, it would 
leave unaltered the revealed truth of God. Not to re- 
fer to those numerous passages which declare that the 
righteous at death enter into life eternal, there are not 
wanting those which represent such as are here afflicted 
in connexion with their faith and devotedness to God, 
exchanging, when they die, a world of sorrow and pain 
for one of unmingled and unending joy and blessedness. 
To them that are afflicted, is appointed rest with Christ. 
They who suffer with him, shall reign with him. These 
are they which came out of great tribulation, and have 
washed their robes and made them white in the blood of 
the Lamb. Therefore are they before the throne of 
God, and serve him day and night in his temple. And 
he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. 
And they shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more, 
neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For 
the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne, shall feed 
them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of wa- 
ters ; and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes* 



221 

Passages- of this character intimate with abundant clear- 
ness, that the affliction of the pious in the present life is 
succeeded in the future by an eternal weight of glory. 
Not that their affliction is the purchase or procuring 
cause of their glorification. Tributary as are their suf- 
ferings to their purification, they have no agency in se- 
curing the divine acceptance. Their robes of righteous- 
ness are the purchase of the Redeemer's agonies alone. 
It is in his blood alone that they are washed and made 
white. But yet it is no forbidden privilege of theirs, to 
look to the end of their faith — to anticipate the termina- 
tion of all conflicts, labors, toils, and sufferings — to have 
respect unto the recompense of reward — and to con- 
template together the light and brief affliction of the life 
that now is, and the most exceedingly great and eternal 
weight of glory that is to be theirs when the present life 
is over. Indeed, it is impossible, and if it were not im- 
possible, it would be impious for the people of god to 
hold back their minds from such contemplations. Their 
faith is confidence in respect to things hoped for, and 
convincing evidence of things not seen. So that they 
must cease to have faith, before they can withdraw their 
minds from these views. They must cast away their 
confidence which the apostle assures us, hath great re- 
compense of reward, before they can forbear to contem- 
plate these two classes of objects together. They must 
lose their resemblance of that train of illustrious person- 
ages, whose spiritual portraits the apostle has clustered 
together in the context, before they can cease to com- 
pare the present affliction with the future rewards of 
piety. Had not Moses instituted this comparison, there 
must have been much rashness and but little wisdom 
in his choice. But he did weigh these things together. 
He saw that to espouse the cause of the people of 
God, was to encounter the afflictions and reproaches of 
Christ, and that these trials would land him on those 
peaceful shores where the wicked cease from troubling, 
and the weary are at rest. This all believers see. And 

19* 



222 THE WISDOM OF 

with their views, how easily is the choice made ? To 
them what folly and madness must seem to besiege the 
minds of those, who, by hesitating, actually choose, rath- 
er than endure the self-denial and peculiar privations, 
the afflictions and reproaches of good men for a few 
short years, to lose a heaven of everlasting pleasures. 
III. The wisdom of the choice which was made by 
Moses, will further appear ■, if we consider that the 
pleasures of sin are only for a season. It is not 
here denied that sin has pleasures. Undeserving as 
they are of the name, there are enjoyments in a state of 
alienation from God — in the ways of transgression. 
Meager and tasteless as they are, they constitute the 
only pleasures which multitudes ever know. In their 
purest form — in their highest perfection — in their largest, 
richest flow, they are base, they are grovelling, they do 
nothing towards filling up the panting emptiness of the 
soul's capacity for satisfying good. Glance your thoughts 
Over the various courses of this world in which its vota- 
ries are in the pursuit of pleasure. Follow the train 
that are searching after it in the paths that lead to world- 
ly wealth ; they reach the object, in which they expect- 
ed to find satisfying pleasure, but it is not there. Watch 
that graver crowd, who are searching after it in the more 
promising paths of literature, science, and the arts ; 
they eagerly explore them, and gather up the treasures 
which lie scattered with an unsparing prodigality, at 
almost every step ; but these abundant gifts as success- 
ively seized by the fond grasp of the earnest adventur- 
ers, return only the silent, but painfully significant as- 
surance, that satisfying pleasure is not in them. The 
same discovery would be made, were you to follow the 
multitudes, that are chasing after it in any of the various 
ways of fancy and fashion, ambition and avarice, luxury 
and excess. No satisfying pleasures are to be found in 
the paths of sin. But even the poor pleasures which 
do sometimes spring up along these paths, wither and 
die at every touch. They are of a forced and unnatu- 



223 

ral, and sickly growth, dying as soon as they shoot forth. 
If they had power to satisfy the soul, yet short-lived 
and evanescent as a dream, they would be compara- 
tively worthless. Were it true, that they yield satisfac- 
tion and experience no cessation until the current of 
life loses itself in the ocean of eternity ; yet so momen- 
tary and transient, gilding only the twilight of our be- 
ing, and vanishing just as the soul begins its career 
amidst the light of eternity, what are they worth ? 
What are pleasures worth that die on the verge of im- 
mortality ? Nor is this the whole that requires to be 
taken into the account in our estimate of the pleas- 
ures of sin. They are not only unsatisfactory while 
they endure, and endure only through the brief interval 
of mortal life, but exclude those pleasures that satisfy 
and live forever. If they were only harmless — if we 
could throw them aside as negative quantities in our 
measure of human blessedness, they would still be 
unworthy the pursuit of a creature formed for the fruition 
of undying pleasures. But how more than worthless, 
how positively destructive of the best good of man, are 
they, since they cannot mingle, they cannot co-exist 
with holy pleasures — the only pleasures that never can 
expire or cease to bless the human soul. With this 
view of sinful pleasures, however reputable and gener- 
ally sought, does not Israel's heroic leader appear to 
have acted the part of true wisdom, by choosing rath- 
er TO SUFFER AFFLICTION WITH THE PEOPLE OF GoD, 
RATHER THAN TO ENJOY THE PLEASURES OF SIN FOR A 
SEASON ? But, 

IV. That he made a wise choice appears from the 
consideration, that the pleasures of sin end in eternal 
sorrows. As they operate to exclude spiritual and last- 
ing satisfaction from the mind during life, they must 
leave it wholly unfit for heaven. Though sinful pleas- 
ures be the more refined and elevated, pursued and 
enjoyed by men, they do nothing towards the form- 
ation of those habits, and the enlargement and sanctifl- 



224 THE WISDOM OF 

cation of those faculties, which are indispensable pre- 
requisites to the fruition of the joys of paradise. Not 
even pleasures sought in the walks of intellectual re- 
searches, have any alliance with, or induce any meet- 
ness for, the holy delights x>f the just made perfect* 
Nay, those who live in any of these pleasures exclusive- 
ly, are dead while they live, and close mortal life only 
to begin the everlasting horrors of the second death. 
These pleasures are the wages, the best avails, the 
choicest revenue of sin, but they are death. This is a 
truth of revelation. God has declared that the end of 
all sinful pleasures, is death. It is written on the pages 
of his eternal truth. Nor is this all. He has allowed 
us to witness a confirmation of it, in what is almost con- 
tinually passing beneath our observation in the present 
world. They who seek and know no pleasures but 
those of sin, have in their own bosoms now, and they 
cannot but occasionally reveal the fact, an earnest of the 
undying sorrows to which their course is leading them. 
In their keenest delights, is mingled the keenest anguish. 
They never find what they seek, and never cease to 
to meet what they would anxiously avoid. Wretched- 
ness, despair, and remorse are imprinting their expres- 
sive characters, where they would gladly display only 
the indications of composure and peace. Nor let it be 
imagined that these busy foes to human happiness, are 
writing their image and superscription on the features 
of none but worn out voluptuaries. The person cannot 
be found who has not made the choice of Moses, in 
whose features and demeanor, this fearful revelation is 
not going on. That child who has but just begun to 
know that he ought to choose the portion of God's 
people, while his foolish heart effectually inclines him 
to choose the pleasures of sin, tells in the wordless lan- 
guage of his emotions, feelings, and conduct, that, 
though in the giddy career of sinful amusements and 
pleasures, he is no stranger to remorse, that despair has 
already built her nest in his bosom, and that his young 



moses's CHOICE. 225 

thoughts have learned to travel onward towards eternity 
in a certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery 
indignation. No ! God has not left himself without 
a witness that never fails to manifest itself in every sin- 
ner who despises the heritage of the saints, that they, 
who choose the pleasures of sin, are preparing to 
lie down in eternal sorrows. And what is the testimo- 
ny of all the unquestionable facts with which inspired 
history abounds, on this point ? Does it appear that a 
single sinner who continued to live in sinful pleasures 
until death, ever escaped perdition ? Behold Dives, 
after having fared sumptuously to the last, lifting up his 
eyes in hell, and begging for a drop of water to cool the 
rage of his torments. Behold the rich fool, summoned 
away in the very moment when exulting in his hoarded 
treasures. Behold Ahithophel, after having gained the 
summit of political ambition, hanging himself for vexa- 
tion — plunging himself from the high range of all his 
pleasing schemes of worldly policy, into the bottomless 
pit. But enough has been said on a point which no 
one respecting the authority of scripture, will venture 
to dispute. Say, then, beloved hearers, did not the 
adopted heir of Egypt's throne wisely prefer to suffer 

AFFLICTION WITH THE PEOPLE OF GoD, RATHER THAN 
TO ENJOY THE PLEASURES OF SIN FOR A SEASON ? 

I cannot be speaking to a single individual, who is not 
convinced that his choice under his peculiar circum- 
stances, indicated great wisdom and magnanimity. 
But I may be heard by not a few who, notwithstanding 
their conviction of this, will not go and do likewise. 
Some of you who would be thought prudent, and wise, 
and courageous, are not willing to take this step. Come, 
then, and look at it again. Consider well the circum- 
stances. Count the cost. Compare the two things 
between which you are to choose. The affliction of 
the people of God is great- It is through much tribu- 
lation that they enter into life. They that will live 
Godly in Christ Jesus, shall suffer persecution. But 



226 THE WISDOM OF 

the agony is short. It ends in glory evelasting. On 
the other hand, the pleasures of sin are only for 
a season. Not longer than the affliction of the godly ; 
and they end in eternal . sorrows ! Can you hesitate 
which to choose ? Can there be a question in any of 
your minds which you ought to choose ? Can you 
doubt which your safety, your interest, your happiness 
in both worlds require you to choose ? Do you still 
hesitate ? Go then, and take a turn in that gallery of 
scripture paintings. Go, and survey that grand histori- 
cal picture, the power of faith in God. Behold that 
illustrious group of suffering and triumphing witnesses 
to the power of faith. See how they lived. See how 
they all died in faith. Would you not thus die ? Live 
then, as they lived. Forsake all earthly endearments 
that are in the way of your believing obedience, as 
Abraham did ; looking for a city which hath founda- 
tions whose builder and maker is God. Refuse the 
honors and distinctions of worldly greatness, that lie in 
the way of your promotion to heavenly crowns, as Mo- 
ses did ; esteeming the reproach of Christ, greater 
riches than the treasures of Egypt, having respect unto 
the recompense of reward. If you do not this, it can 
never be truly said of you these all died in faith. On 
the contrary, it will need to be said of some of you — 
these died in wilful ignorance 5 of others, these died in 
stupidity, and of others, again, these died in false peace, 
and of others, these died in despair — while of the whole 
of you, the angels who rejoice over repentant sinners, 
will be constrained to utter the mournful story to the 
ear of glorified spirits — These all died without 
hope ! 

Brethren in Christ, we profess to have chosen the 
lot of afflicted saints. In this election we have avow- 
edly expressed a deliberate preference of suffering to 
sinning. Is there one of you that regrets the choice he 
has made ? Would you rescind the vows made here 
on earth and registered in heaven, that you would link 



moses's CHOICE. 227 

your destinies in both worlds with those of God's peo- 
ple ? Does the solemn choice appear any the less wise, 
than at the decisive moment, when you joyfully bound 
yourselves to be the Lord's, and one of his afflicted 
people ? Do afflictions, reproaches, and persecutions 
that fall upon you, make your hearts turn back, and 
covet the short lived pleasures of sin ? Are any of you 
of the number of professed believers, who by some se- 
cret reservation, seem to think themselves released from 
following Christ and with his disciples, except on cer- 
tain conditions — except he leads you through smooth 
paths — except he lays on you no heavy burden — ex- 
cept he requires of you no painful task — except he asks 
of you no acts of self-crucifixion — except he remits a 
part of his plan and order in respect to you ? Then 
you had better keep away from this sealing ordinance, 
until you are prepared unconditionally to vow to your 
Lord and Master — as did Ruth to Naomi — Whither 
thou goest, I will go — and where thou lodgest I will 
lodge — thy people shall be my people, and thy God my 
God ! 

But beloved, I trust this is the language of most of 
our hearts, although I thus speak. With this sentiment 
in your hearts, open your eyes on the great objects of 
faith. Behold the Saviour, and thence gain some new 
views of the lightness of your affliction compared with 
what he bore. Through the visions of a quickened 
faith, take a nearer and clearer view of the littleness of 
your earthly sorrows compared with the surpassing 
greatness of eternal pleasures at God's right hand. 
Look away to unseen things, and deepen the conviction 
of the wisdom of your choice. Gaze amidst these 
scenes, and afresh bind your souls to the cause and the 
people of God. Bend a believing eye on these objects, 
and learn a lesson of patience. It will soon be over. 
The warfare will soon be accomplished. The last agony 
will speedily wring your hearts. The last struggle in 



228 

a little moment will place crowns of everlasting victory 
on your heads. Soon in the hearts of rising genera- 
tions, in the chronicles of heaven it shall be written of 
you — These all died in faith, having come out of 
much tribulation and washed their robes white in the 
blood of the Lamb ! 



SEM®^ XVIII 



A Characteristic of True Faith. 
ISAIAH XXVIII. 16. 

HE THAT BELIEVETH SHALL .NOT MAKE HASTE. 

It is a common remark, that the inspired volume ex- 
ceeds all others in the brevity and comprehensiveness 
of its language. With inimitable clearness, it often in- 
dicates by a single word or phrase, qualities and traits 
of character, which uninspired men describe by a labo- 
rious accumulation of epithets. Many of the virtues 
which are deemed estimable among men, being often 
included in some one religious or moral quality, have 
their nature and tendency luminously portrayed by 
the pen of inspiration in only a brief clause. Men of 
great learning and acuteness have written ably on de- 
cision, consistency, and stability of character. But while 
they have abundantly shown its importance, their ef- 
forts, though swollen into volumes, have almost entirely 
failed to disclose the source or cause of this most de- 
sirable quality. The bible, however, points directly 
to this source. It developes at once what alone can 
give consistency to the human character. It shows us, 
in a word, its true spring and essence. It informs us, 
that faith in Christ is the grand secret of genuine decis- 
ion, or fixedness of character in man. He that believ- 

ETH, SHALL NOT MAKE HASTE. 
20 



230 A CHARACTERISTIC 

These words were addressed by the prophet to a 
class of individuals, who in the stubbornness of a rebel- 
lious spirit, were determined to escape from all the re- 
straints of piety, and who with finished presumption 
were using such language as this : We have made a 
covenant with death, and with hell are we at agreement 
— when the overflowing scourge shall pass through, it 
shall not come unto us — -for we have made lies our re- 
fuge, and under falsehood have we hid ourselves. As- 
sured as he was, that, notwithstanding their boasted cov- 
enant and agreement with death and hell, they were 
not at ease, but were still the subjects of fear and alarm; 
and in their refuge af lies, were conscious of insecuri- 
ty, the devout Isaiah announced to them, in the lan- 
guage of the Most High, that there was an antidote for 
their fears, a refuge from peril — a place where they 
might be safe, when the overwhelming scourge should 
pass through. Thus saith the Lord God, Behold I 
lay in Zionfor a foundation, a stone, a tried stone, a 
precious corner stone — a sure foundation — he that be- 
lieveth, shall not make haste. He that confides in 
this, makes this his refuge, and is built on this sure 
foundation, shall not be agitated, dismayed, and thrown 
into confusion, when dangers threaten — shall not be 
driven to false refuges, when troubles come ; but shall 
feel a sacred consciousness of safety from the one, and 
of quiet repose amidst the other. 

Such is the connexion, and obvious sentiment of the 
text. Christians in the exercise of true faith shall not 
make haste. Their steps are not only safe, but uni- 
form. Their progress is at once secure and steady. It 
is not the fitful flash of the meteor, but the steady 
warm glow of the morning light, shining more and more 
unto the perfect day. In all the varied circumstances 
in which they are placed — in whatever posture they 
are called to act, christians, swayed by a lively faith, 
will evince its operation by a uniform, a decided, and- 
consistent character. 



OF TRUE FAITH. 231 

I. They will thus show the influence of their faith 
in time of clanger. Believers have no security against 
the approach of dangers. Indeed, they are exposed to 
a more numerous array, than an apostle thought proper 
to enumerate. Their very character renders them ob- 
noxious to many, and those too of no ordinary magni- 
tude, of which the unbelieving multitude are entirely 
unconscious. Every step in their progress is thronged 
with hosts of spiritual enemies. In many of the ob- 
jects which minister to their innocent gratification and 
delight, lie often concealed their deadliest foes. A- 
midst scenes of refined and rational enjoyment, dangers 
of threatening aspect are constantly springing up. But 
the shield of faith is their protection. "What time 
they are afraid they trust in God." And because they 
believe, when dangers thicken along their path, they 
are neither thrown into an attitude of haste and alarm, 
nor driven into precipitate defence. Because cordially 
resting on the sure foundation, they find themselves on 
safe ground — none of these things move them. The 
psalmist has expressed the feelings of all believers in 
seasons of peril. The Lord is my light and my salva- 
tion, whom shall I fear ? The Lord is the strength of 
my life, of whom shall J be afraid 6 ? Though an host 
should encamp against me, my heart shall not fear — 
though war should, rise against me, in this will I be 
confident. 

Whether the danger threatens their own personal 
well being, or the interests of religion in the world, they 
pursue the same steady and consistent course. Having 
an undoubting persuasion that all things will work to- 
gether for the good of such as love God, and that no 
weapon formed against his church shall prosper, they 
hasten not to adopt their own counsels, nor are they 
hurried into any questionable expedients ; but calmly 
wait the counsel and direction of God. They are as 
far from being induced, through unbelief and impatience, 
to look only on existing appearances, and to consult 



232 A CHARACTERISTIC 

present interests and convenience, as they are from 
choosing, like the scoffers in the days of the prophet, to 
make a league with death and hell, rather than to de- 
pend on the promises of the Most High. With what 
they have learnt of the support and protection of their 
Divine Master, they do not suddenly despair of contin- 
uing to realize his sustaining and protecting agency. 
Knowing the blessed security of confiding in Him who 
is placed in Zion for a foundation, they cannot with the 
rash presumption of the unbelieving, abandon this " firm 
footing" — this " solid rock." All their experience for- 
bids them to precipitate themselves from the sole ark 
of safety, amidst the billows of doubt and uncertainty. 
And what can greatly disturb, terrify, or urge to run 
with a ruinous impetuosity to a false refuge, the soul 
that is, and feels itself, shielded by Omnipotence ? Let 
all that is appalling in danger gather about the path of 
that believer who is built on Christ — who is planted on 
this Rock of ages. It may send a momentary thrill of 
terror through his mind, but it will rather serve to fast- 
en him more unalterably to the ground of his confidence, 
than to tear him from it. It will lead him to say — it 
has already led him to say, not in the spirit of vain 
boasting, but of humble faith, 

" Let worlds conspire to drive me thence, 

Moveless and firm this heart shall lie, 
Resolved (for that's my last defence) 

If I must perish, there to die. 

But speak, my Lord, and calm my fear ; 

Am I not safe beneath thy shade ? 
Vengeance can never strike me here, 

Nor Satan dare my soul invade. " 

II. Believers in Christ will show the steady influ- 
ence of their faith in seasons of affliction. Man 
is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward. Afflic- 
tions, in some of the various forms of sickness, bereave- 
ment, losses, and disappointments, are the common lot 
of all. The children of God, so far from being exemp- 



OF TRUE FAITH. 233 

ted from the accidents of sinful humanity, share them 
in unusual measure, both in number, and severity. 
Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and he scourgeth 
every son whom he receiveth. But believers, when 
" woes cluster," do not make haste to run to broken 
cisterns for relief. These they have already tried, and 
proved to be empty and worthless. As affliction comes 
not forth from the dust, and trouble springs not out of 
the ground, so nothing which earth affords can essen- 
tially vary the character, or mitigate the severity of such 
visitations. No medicine which the resources of nature 
or art furnish, can reach the disease of the soul, or heal 
a wounded spirit. The world has no power to cure 
the anguish inflicted by Jehovah's hand. This his be- 
lieving people know. And knowing this, when suffer- 
ing under the chastisement of his rod, they instinctive- 
ly fly to him. Without being driven about, agitated and 
distracted like those who have no refuge, no hiding- 
place to enter, their course is direct to him. Their 
reason, their tastes, their desires, suggest no other re- 
fuge. The ungodly, when calamities befall them, yield 
to their violence, either with an appearance of broken 
heartedness, or of stern resistance ; and then, as soon as 
conscience or regard to character will permit, hasten 
away to mingle in the scenes of their accustomed pur- 
suits, and to lose among the gay, the worldly, and the 
thoughtless, the solemn impressions which the hand of 
God's afflictive providence may have made. But while 
the unbelieving multitude, under the pressure of afflic- 
tions, hurry from one fancied source of consolation to 
another, and find them all " miserable comforters," they 
who are so grounded and settled in the faith as not to be 
moved from the hope of the gospel, being still and know- 
ing that it is God, find even amidst the outward frowns 
of their heavenly Father, light, and peace, and joy from 
his presence, filling their souls. While in the posture of 
still, quiet, submissive, and uncomplaining suffering, they 
hear the rod and him who hath appointed it, they feel 

20* 



234 A CHARACTERISTIC 

that every stroke imparts a healing efficacy with the 
wound it inflicts — that for every earthly tie it severs, it 
forms a new one between the soul and heaven, which 
nothing can sunder, but which eternity shall strengthen. 
Thus it is, that the true believer, in the midst of severe 
trials and suffering, instead of being overwhelmed and 
driven to fa^se refuges, is able to say — None of these 
things move me ; neither count I my life dear unto my- 
self so that I may finish my course with joy. 

III. The true christian will not make haste in re- 
gard to his own character. A good name is, indeed, 
rather to be chosen than great riches. But the chris- 
tian may be thrown into situations in which his good 
name can be preserved only by sacrificing what is more 
valuable than great riches. He lives in a world which 
retains still the spirit of that, which crucified his Lord 
and Master. To be on good terms with it, often re- 
quires even now the dereliction of religious principle, 
and the abandonment of the divine glory as the end and 
aim of life. Thus circumstanced, how plain is it that 
he may purchase reputation at too dear a rate — that he 
may be too anxious to wipe off reproaches cast upon his 
character. Situated as the believer often is in the pres- 
ent evil world, it is to be expected that his name will 
be cast out as evil, that groundless suspicions of his in- 
tegrity will prevail, and his christian character be call- 
ed in question. But conscious that his own heart does 
not reproach him, and that Christ does not condemn 
him, he will not be in haste to justify himself, and to 
remove the cloud which malice, or envy, or jealousy, 
may have attempted to bring over his reputation. This 
is the operation of faith in Christ. It prepares him to 
expect this species of persecution, and quietly to wait 
until his master shall cause the cloud to pass away. It 
makes him feel, that it is a small thing to be judged of 
man's judgment ; especially when his own determina- 
tion to live godly in Christ Jesus, can be viewed as the 
cause of the calumny. Carrying him forward too, to 



OF TRUE FAITH. 235 

look at remote consequences, and to behold the bless- 
ed results of his present sufferings from this cause, it 
helps him to bear it with a submissive, a cheerful, and 
even a thankful spirit, as a needful and most desirable 
discipline. Oh, this slowness to self-vindication clothes 
the character with a dignity, which nothing but faith in 
Christ can give. See it in the prophet Elisha, who neg- 
lected to send after Naaman to vindicate himself from 
the falsehoods of Gehazi. See it in him that was more 
than a prophet, who when he was reviled, reviled not 
again — when he suffered, threatened not ; but committed 
himself to him who judgeth righteously. 

Nor is the believer's faith less operative and manifest 
in his comparative indifference to his character, when 
he happens to stand high in worldly estimation. He 
does not disregard popular applause, as he does popular 
censure and reproach, because he sees that, while the 
one is generally as unreasonable as the other, it is by 
no means as harmless. His indifference to the one, 
makes him slow and measured in his own vindication ; 
he watches and guards against the other, lest its bewild- 
ering influence should lead him to adopt the opinion of 
a misjudging multitude, and think himself something 
when he is nothing. In such cases is seen the energy 
of faith. Nothing else can preserve the christian, whom 
the world applauds, from making haste to ruin himself, 
borne away from God in the tide of his own popularity. 
But faith in Christ can do this. It will make the be- 
liever see and feel the utter emptiness of popular ap- 
plause. He will see it in the history of his divine Mas- 
ter. One day the multitude worshipped him with ho- 
sannas — another day, they nailed him to the cross. He 
will see it too, as he glances an eye of faith over the 
invisible realities of eternity, and contrasts the condi- 
tion of those who have a name and a place among the 
children of God, with theirs who live on the breath 
of human praise, and have their names stand high 
among the sons of renown. Oh ! and he will see it, as 



236 A CHARACTERISTIC 

he retires into his own bosom, and contemplates the 
peaceful calm that reigns in the soul, which reposes 
itself on the Saviour ; and will feel that 

"One" self-renouncing "hour, whole years outweighs 
"Of stupid starers, and of loud huzzas." 

IV. The spiritual believer will not be precipitate 
informing and expressing his opinion of the religious 
character of others. Scarcely in any thing does the 
faith of christians appear more decidedly marked with 
its own blessed nature, than in its influence on the judg- 
ment and decision of the mind respecting the spiritual 
state of others. So far as its influence extends, it pre- 
vents hasty and rash opinions. It enters largely into 
the whole range of religious experience. As it works 
by love, it must prevent uncharitable and injurious de- 
cisions. As it purifies the heart, its judgments must 
be conformable to a correct spiritual taste. As it over- 
comes the world, no worldly motives or considerations 
will shape its views of character. Under the guidance, 
therefore, of a vigorous faith, associated, as it ever is, 
with a corresponding lively exercise of the other graces 
of the Spirit, the christian cannot but be deliberate in 
coming to conclusions respecting the piety of his fellow 
sinners. He knows that to become a child of God, in- 
volves an exceedingly great alteration in the inherent 
bias and relish of the mind ; and that to fail to become 
such, is a greater calamity than the loss of existence. 
Knowing this, and loving, and desiring the salvation of 
the souls of his fellow sinners, with trembling caution 
will he let the influence of his opinion go, to excite or 
confirm a hope in the breast of one of his fellow im- 
mortals. He will think of the tremendous responsible- 
ness attached to the influence of such an opinion. It 
is not the cherishing of an innocent persuasion in his own 
bosom. It may be the sending of a soul to the judgment 
without being pardoned and renewed. It may be fix- 
ing the seal of perdition upon an immortal mind. It 



OF TRUE FAITH. 237 

may be giving one a hope which will speedily ter- 
minate in everlasting despair. However reluctant, 
therefore, he may be to protract the anguish of a sinner 
oppressed and burdened with a consciousness of guilt, 
unwilling as he may well be to destroy the hope of one, 
who has truly submitted to the terms of salvation through 
Christ, he would rather do this, — O ! he would rather 
send every broken hearted sinner who is liable to be 
directed by his decision, all the way through life in 
hopeless sorrow, than to be the occasion of encourag- 
ing one in a hope that must prove ruinous ! Who can 
tell the importance of every christian's so believing, as 
to be saved from a participation thus fatal to the souls 
of men ?- 

V. The christian ivhose faith is practical and puri- 
fying in its influence, will not be rash and precipitate 
in his expectations. Although he will attempt much, 
and expect much, he will be deliberate in his efforts, 
and rational in his hopes. Being swayed less by what 
he beholds around him, than by the great objects of 
faith, he may appear at times to those who sympathize 
with the changes and fluctuations of things seen, slow 
and reluctant to duty ; but the impulse by which he 
moves onward, is of a steady and enduring character. 
His expectations in regard to the progress of the gos- 
pel, grow out of a steady and heartfelt reliance on the 
promises of the gospel. His zeal is the warm glow of 
an unwavering determination of soul to watch, and pray, 
and labor, and wait for the accomplishment of the di- 
vine intentions respecting his church. It is not bor- 
rowed from occasions and circumstances. It is not the 
dying flame that is fed only by the incidents and senti- 
ments of time and place. It is not a feeling that wastes 
itself in confessing past unfaithfulness, and in promising 
future obedience, but that impels onward in a course 
of steady and noiseless enterprize. Thus in respect to 
the grand object which christians of the present day are 
so generally looking forward to with interest and ex- 



238 A CHARACTERISTIC 

pectancy, the subject of lively and sanctifying faith en- 
tertains no impatient and hasty anticipations ; but, watch- 
ing the symptoms, and welcoming the approach of that 
glorious era of the church, he makes the influence of 
his personal character and efforts tell decidedly on the 
advancement of a cause, which is gradually bringing all 
the tribes of Adam's offspring to hear the tidings of 
salvation, and to participate its blessings. His faith is 
seen too, in guiding his expectations of the special 
presence of Christ in any portion of his church. His 
expectations rest on the promise of that blessing, and 
are confident in proportion as the condition on which it 
is promised, is fulfilled. He is always expecting, and 
desiring the effusions of the Holy Spirit upon those 
around him ; but his expectations come up to something 
like full assurance, only when the souls, that pray, are 
seen to be in a posture to receive the infinite good. His 
hopes spring not from impulses of feeling apart from 
evidence. They are anchors cast within the veil, and 
his thoughts, desires, and heart, are too steadily swayed 
by their attractions, to be affected by the current of 
hasty opinions. He expects and hopes, not because 
others do, but because God has promised to give his 
Holy Spirit to them that ask it. Thus he remains con- 
stant, patient, expectant, while others whose expecta- 
tions are rashly placed on something apart from the oath 
and promise of Jehovah, are passing through all the va- 
riety of changes, from full assurance to " flat despair." 
His trust is fixed on God, and therefore he does not 
make haste — does not rashly expect what, from all that 
faith or reason can descry, it would be presumption to 
look for. Their trust is in something undefined and 
unknown, and, therefore, they are forever hurrying from 
one disappointment to another. 

I remark, from what has been said, 

1 . That true faith is shown by works. Faith which 
is not thus evinced, is spurious, useless, and dead. Such 
is the character of the great object of the christian faith. 



OF TRUE FAITH. 239 

so sublime and spiritual, so widely removed from the 
discoveries of sense and reason, that they who cordially 
make him the ground of their confidence, must be seen 
to have a stability of character, a purity of motive, an 
elevation of purpose, and a sublimity of pursuit, altogeth- 
er above the low range of unbelieving minds. This 
heartfelt confidence in Immanuel, is transforming. It 
is in some sense a participation in his nature. It car- 
ries its subjects along in the path he has marked out. 
So that the virtues of the heart and life, so much ex- 
tolled among men, and which have long been vainly 
attempted to be grafted on the unrenewed nature of our 
fallen race, become the natural elements of the believ- 
er's character. There, works of righteousness spring 
spontaneously as from their native soil. There, they 
flourish after the pattern, but never as the substitute of 
the perfect righteousness of the Redeemer. There they 
shed abroad evidence of the energy of that principle 
whose element is love, whose sphere is the heart, and 
whose conquest is the world. And there they must in- 
crease to the glory of him by whose operation is wrought 
the work of faith, until the root and branch — the believ- 
er followed by his works, receives the end of his faith, 
the salvation of his soul. Be it remembered, then, 
that his faith cannot be right whose life is wrong. 

2, If, as I think it has been seen, an abiding and live- 
ly sense of dependence on Christ, is the grand secret 
and spring of a decided and consistent christian char- 
acter, I feel that I have an argument to enforce the du- 
ty of cherishing a strong impression of such dependence, 
which none of his real disciples will gainsay or resist. 
It is an argument derived from the consideration of the 
glory of their Master, and of their own usefulness and 
happiness. I am not required to show, that the Lord 
Jesus Christ is glorified by a consistent holy determina- 
tion of conduct in his followers. It is giving a living 
form to the great principles of his gospel. It is sending 
abroad in the world a living demonstration of the mighty 



240 A CHARACTERISTIC 

efficacy of his religion. Causes may exist and act for 
a day, which give to human conduct a direction coinci- 
dent with that of the gospel. But they will be fluctuat- 
ing, inconstant, transient. Not so the sway of religion. 
It will carry such as yield to it, steadily, safely, com- 
pletely, gloriously through the career of their earthly 
destiny. And while it thus bears them onward to glory, 
it tells to the world, whose that unearthly energy is 
which makes them walk and not faint, run and not be 
weary, and ascend upward as on eagle's wings. And 
what christian does not know, that his personal useful- 
ness almost exclusively depends on that holy determina- 
tion of mind, which moves him onward along " the even 
tenor of his way ?" It is not a few splendid acts of 
christian enterprize and selfdenial — it is not now and 
then a gush of zeal in the cause of Christ, which makes 
his disciples useful. No, it is a noiseless, steady and 
unbroken series of acts simply directed to the advance- 
ment of undefiled religion, which makes the christian 
useful. But with the true christian, to be useful, is to 
be happy. To be simply and consistently devoted to 
a cause which has already begun a succession of tri- 
umphs that are to multiply and extend through eternity, 
is in itself the most satisfying and godlike employment, 
which can engage finite powers. Yet this is not all. 
A consistent devotion to such a cause, takes the soul 
away from the disturbing forces— the bewildering im- 
pulses of this troublous scene. And now, I can only 
say, that I pity the christian who perceives in all this, 
no motive for making his avowed faith in Christ^ more 
real, more personal, more practical, more perpetual in 
its sway. Profess what you will, my brethren — believe 
what you will, it must all leave you far apart from your 
duty and happiness, until your faith so fastens on Jesus 
Christ, as to render you steadfast and unmoveable, al- 
ways abounding in the work of the Lord. Shall we 
not, then, immoveably plant ourselves and our all, on the 



OF TRUE FAITH. 141 

Rock Christ Jesus ? Shall we not so believe in him as 
not to make haste % Shall we not bring our souls to rest 
so firmly there, as no more to wound his cause by our 
precipitation in feeling, in judgment, and in conduct ; 
or to destroy our own peace by rash and groundless 
fears ; or to hazard our salvation by presumptuous sins ? 
Then, O! then should we be useful and happy in life, 
and as the visions of eternity break upon our souls, it 
will be ours to say — Lol this is our God — we have wait- 
ed for him, and he will save us — this is the Lord — we 
have waited for him, we will be glad, and rejoice in his 
salvation. 

3. I must be permitted to remark in conclusion, that 
there is a counterpart to the consistent, even, useful and 
happy tenor of the believer's course. They who be- 
lieve not shall make haste. This is asserted by impli- 
cation in the text. It is a truth of necessity. In the 
existing constitution of the moral world, it must be so. 
They who believe not with the heart, the grand and all 
pervading truth of the bible — that there is need of, and 
provision for, the salvation of our fallen race, can have 
no resting place. They can feel none of the high, and 
holy, and everlasting motives of the gospel. They can 
have no well defined, and settled principles of action. 
They must, consequently, be swayed by the hurrying 
and conflicting power of those motives, which grow out 
of circumstances, times, and occasions. Whatever in- 
dependence they may affect, they have nothing which 
can rise above, or triumph over the merest incident of 
an hour. Thus are they the victims of unnumbered, 
impetuous, and opposing impulses, but yet all sending 
them one way — the way that leads to death. It is their 
chosen way — it is a broad way — it is a downward way 
— it is the only way they love ; and they give them- 
selves no rest in their haste to find its end. Yes, they 
are hastening their steps to hell ! And will you suffer 
me plainly, though affectionately and tenderly, to warn 

21 



242 A CHARACTERISTIC OF TRUE FAITH. 

you of it? You cannot rest. You cannot remain as 
you are. Every thing in your heart, in the world, and 
in the truth of God too, until you obey it, is swelling 
the dreadful force which bears you downward. One 
thing only can save you. It is faith in Christ. Be- 
lieve, and the hurrying impulse shall cease. Believe, 
and with steps steady and safe, you shall go on your 
way rejoicing towards the paradise of God ! 



SERMON XIX 



Objects and Effects of the Christian Hope. 



1 JOHN III. 3. 

AND EVERY MAN THAT HATH THIS HOPE IN HIM, PURIFIETH 
HIMSELF, EVEN AS HE IS PURE. 



Notwithstanding all the descriptions and living 
examples of saving religion with which men have been 
favored, its real nature and influence are but little un- 
derstood in the world. The notions formed of it, are 
too commonly derived from materially defective, or im- 
perfect representations of it. We seem to prefer almost 
every other means of learning what it is, to those by 
which alone we can ever reasonably expect to gain suf- 
ficiently exalted views of its unearthly character. The 
great reason is, we are afraid to subject our own piety 
to the requisite test, and, therefore, are willing to call 
those, the marks and fruits of religion, which God has 
never called such. Rather than disturb the foundation 
of our own hopes, we consent to be so charitable as to 
trust, that many are true christians in whom scarcely a 
single genuine feature of piety appears. In such cases 
we are willing to exercise that charity which hopeth all 
things, because we are anxious to cherish a hope, that 
we ourselves are in a state of safety. It is obviously 
much more easy to expose the ruinous fallacy of such 
a method of acquiring and confirming our hopes, than 



244 OBJECTS AND EFFECTS OF 

to induce any one who has long adopted it, to come to 
the scriptures alone for tests of a safe condition. Per- 
sons adhere to this mode of sustaining their hopes of 
heaven, with a pertinacity which is almost peculiar to 
such cases. Expectations of temporal good resting on 
so slight a basis, if ever cherished, are readily abandon- 
ed. The hopes which prompt the untiring enterprises 
of worldly men in the pursuit of their objects, will rare- 
ly be found to proceed merely from a perception that 
they are imitating others who have like hopes. They 
derive their hopes from remoter views, from deeper in- 
vestigation of the case, and from more thorough com- 
parison of the means employed with the end desired. 
Nor are they, where temporal interests are concerned, 
easily seduced into the fancy, that others will certainly 
succeed in the same class of pursuits, in order that by 
this means they may gain hopes of success also. They 
deem even their objects, a reality of too much value to 
be trifled with ; and the expectation of attaining them, 
a matter of too much consequence to be made to de- 
pend on a fleeting fancy of the mind. 

Now if we would not fall into mistakes fatally disas- 
trous in a concern of such moment as that of our spirit- 
ual interests, by taking up with the notions current 
among its reputed subjects, as to what constitutes sa- 
ving religion ; if we would not at last find ourselves 
the victims of a miserable delusion, by indulging hopes 
of safety, because others with no better grounds indulge 
similar hopes, let us form our views of that religion 
which will carry us safely through life, through death, 
through the scenes of the final judgment, and through 
eternity, from the representations of the book of God. 
We can scarcely open that book without meeting with 
representations of it sufficiently marked and definite. 
On almost every page are presented delineations of 
some of its great, distinctive features. The mistakes 
in regard to it, are corrected and guarded against, 
wherever we read, It pictures religion as no earthly, 



THE CHRISTIAN HOPE. 245 

sensual and selfish thing, but as a child of heaven so- 
journing awhile on earth, with eyes and heart ever 
turned to its native home, and constantly deriving, by 
means of such an intercourse, supporting and purifying 
energies from that high world, where its toils and its 
conflicts will end, and its triumphs and consolations be 
endless. Such a picture of it is given by the apostle 
in connexion with the text. He begins the chapter 
with a burst of adoring admiration of the love and con- 
descension of God, in adopting them into his spiritual 
family. Behold, what manner of love the Father hath 
bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of 
God. The character of such as are thus made the 
children of God, he goes on to say, is misunderstood by 
worldly minds, just as God's character is misapprehend- 
ed by them. Therefore, the world knoweth us not, be- 
cause it knew him not. Nor does he hesitate to de- 
clare, that the prospects which open upon them in the 
coming world, included a sum of blessedness which sur- 
passed their present powers of comprehension ; though 
of its general nature and character they had a suffi- 
ciently full and satisfactory knowledge. Beloved, now 
are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what 
we shall be ; but we know, that when he shall appear, 
we shall be like him ; for we shall see him as he is. 
But does he say, that those who have such prospects in 
view, indolently resign themselves to the joy which the 
sure and blessed hope creates ? No. He adds — And 

EVERY ONE THAT HATH THIS HOPE IN HIM, PURIFIETH 

himself as he is pure. Here we have a full and 
beautiful portrait of our holy religion — a religion which 
is intended not merely to inform and instruct the mind, 
but to influence the heart and life — a religion which is 
a child of heaven struggling on through this dark and 
distant world, with an eye beaming with brightening 
hopes, and a hold nerved with the glowing energies of 
faith, fixed on the unseen realities of eternity — a reli- 
gion whose glorious excellency consists in the indissolu- 

21* 



246 OBJECTS AND EFFECTS OF 

ble connexion, and mutual influence between its spec- 
ulative views and practical aims. To illustrate and 
present more clearly this delightful peculiarity of the 
religion of the gospel, will be the object of the present 
discourse, in some cursory observations on the objects 
and effects of the hope spoken of in the text. 

I. The objects of that hope. Every one that 
hath this hope in him. No doubt the objects of 
the hope here mentioned are essentially the same, as 
are respected by christian hope in general. They in- 
clude future and eternal spiritual good. From the 
connexion of this passage, however, it appears that 
the apostle had in view two or three things which may 
be regarded as the specific objects of the hope of which 
he speaks. 

1. The final appearing of the Lord Jesus Christ 
to judge the world. We know that when he shall ap- 
pear. To none but those whose assurance of endless 
life is founded on the divine promise, can the appearing 
of the great God our Saviour, on this fearfully glorious 
errand, be properly an object of hope. All others must 
anticipate it with appalling fears, rather than with any 
confident persuasion of its being to them the occasion 
of good. It can never be otherwise than evil to men 
unreconciled to God, to be called to witness the deci- 
sions of the final day. The appearing of Christ will 
be also the revelation of their sins and of their unaltera- 
ble doom. He will appear to execute on them the sen- 
tence of condemnation, and to add perfection to their 
misery, by making them see and feel that it is to know 
no cessation or abatement forever. But the children 
of God can joyfully hope for the Saviour's appearing. 
Even the distant views, which at times they are enabled 
to gain of him by the eye of faith, are exclusively grate- 
ful to them. It does them good to witness his image 
in his followers, ft is to them a blessing to behold him 
in the triumphs of his gospel. If at his last appearing 
to judgment, no new features of loveliness and glory 



THE CHRISTIAN HOPE. 247 

were to be revealed to his people, they would look for- 
ward to it with eager desire and hail it with delight. 
But he will come clothed with new attractions lor them. 
He will come to be glorified in all his saints. He will 
come triumphing over all the powers of darkness. He 
will come to clear up all the difficulties, and to set at 
right all the apparent inequalities, in the allotments of 
his followers here. He will come to let them enter in- 
to his joy, to feast on his love, and to drink at the river 
of his pleasures forever. Well may such an event in 
prospect be the object of joyful and grateful christian 
hope. 

2. Another object of the hope noticed, is the more 
perfect knowledge and enjoyment of God our Saviour. 
They now darkly behold him by the eye of faith — catch 
some faint glimpses of him in the field of his works, and 
in the events of his providence and grace. But when 
he shall at last appear in the end of time, his people 
shall see him as he is. Not at a distance, but near at 
hand. Not faintly and by imperfect reflection, but 
clearly with the rays of his grace, and glory, and majes- 
ty pouring directly upon them. They will so see him 
as to render it impossible any longer to misapprehend 
his character, or discern any thing but the most perfect 
and glorious harmony in his attributes. Their minds 
will be so elevated and their faculties so enlarged, that 
objects which now we could not see and live, they shall 
behold with unveiled face, and exult in the delightful 
privilege. Nor is this all. For those whose wills are 
conformed to the divine law, and whose affections are 
corrected and purified, enjoy the divine Being in pro- 
portion as they see him as he is. Their enjoyment of 
his presence is proportionate to their knowledge of his 
character. They behold in him an all sufficient por- 
tion, and an almighty and everlasting friend. And while 
they contemplate his glory, admire his goodness, and 
exalt his praise, their satisfaction and delight will sur- 
pass the highest expectations which can be entertained 



248 OBJECTS AND EFFECTS OF 

in this world. And certainly, that may now well be 
the object of a joyful christian hope, which is to outlive 
and swallow it up in the ocean of eternal pleasures ! 

3. To be like God, is another object of the hope here 
mentioned. We shall be like him. But in what re- 
spects shall the children of God be like him ? Some 
of the divine perfections admit of no transfer — are in- 
communicable to glorified spirits in their most exalted 
state. The highest angel of light can never be the om- 
nipotent and omniscient Eternal. But yet in some points 
the children of God are like him in the coming world. 
They are points in which they must resemble him be- 
fore they can enjoy him. They will be like him in im- 
mortality. Here in their existing state, they are like 
the insect of a day. They are like the herbage of the 
fields, which withers, and dies, and vanishes away, be- 
neath the fanning breeze. In their mortal condition 
nothing is more perishable than they. They go down 
to the grave after a life of toils and woes ; but they go 
down thither only to pass through its purifying process, 
and to arise again arrayed in the beauties of immortali- 
ty. The resurrection is the manifestation of the sons 
of God. They who shall be counted worthy to obtain 
that world, and the resurrection from the dead, can die 
no more, but are equal to the angels, and are the children 
of God, being the children of the resurrection. But the 
great particular in which they resemble God, consists 
in the purity of their deathless nature. Unsanctified 
lost souls live an eternal death beyond the verge of mor- 
tal existence. While all who are here born and sanc- 
tified by the divine Spirit, drop at the gate of death 
every remaining vestige of moral impurity, and are pre- 
sented holy and unblameable, and unreproveable in the 
sight of God. They enter a world where no moral de- 
filement can ever enter. Every thing there is perfectly 
holy. The Eternal upon the throne, the countless hosts 
that encircle it, the intercourse, the worship, and the 
affections are all holy. As to prepare and bring sin- 



THE CHRISTIAN HOPE. 249 

ners of our race to this pure world, is the great end of 
the gospel, so those who are iu a course of education for 
so sublime and glorious a destiny, always are looking 
forward to heaven as a place where perfect holiness is 
universal and unending ; the very atmosphere that en- 
compasses them, and the sole element in which they are 
to live and move eternally. They think of it less as a 
place of security and repose, than as one of unmingled 
holiness. It is chiefly its beauties of holiness, that at- 
tract and animate their hopes. Oh, their hopes would 
lose half their power to bless, did they not repose on a 
heaven, which consists in a participation with God in un- 
mingled and unending purity. 

II. I proceed now to notice the effects of such a hope. 
Every one that hath this hope in him, purifi- 

ETH HIMSELF EVEN AS HE IS PURE. It should be ob- 

served here, that this hope is peculiar to the children 
of God. None besides ever evince or feel its practical 
influence. They, therefore, who possess the character 
of sons of God, have need of being more and more pu- 
rified. It is not said that every one that hath this 
hope, hath purified himself ; — but purifieth him- 
self. The work to which the saints of God are prompt- 
ed by their peculiar hope, is ever in progress, but never 
finished in the present world. Whatever be their at- 
tainments, they can look to no point in their character, 
to no part of their conduct, to no single requisition of 
scripture, without perceiving abundant proof, that they 
have not already attained, neither are already perfect. 
If the inquiry arises in any mind, how the idea of a 
man's purifying himself can be reconciled with the 
uniform statements of scripture relative to our personal 
insufficiency to do any thing as of ourselves, to the im- 
possibility of our bringing a clean thing out of an un- 
clean, and to the blood of Jesus Christ as alone ade- 
quate to cleanse us from all sin ; it may be sufficient 
briefly to say, that, by a man's purifying himself is to 
be understood his earnest and continued endeavors, in 



250 OBJECTS AND EFFECTS OF 

obedience to the divine requirements, and in depend- 
ance on the promised aid of the divine Spirit, to be- 
come meet for the inheritance of the saints in light. 
Our sufficiency is entirely of God ; and yet does the 
bible afford any warrant for expecting that the purify- 
ing of the soul can advance, while we remain indiffer- 
ent to its progress ? We can effect nothing in this mat- 
ter by our own exertions alone ; and yet how urgent 
are the exhortations addressed to christians, beseeching 
them by all the hopes and fears that can reach and 
sway the heart to be active — to add virtue to virtue, 
grace to grace, holiness to holiness ? Nothing, then, is 
detracted from the grace of God — nothing from the 
importance and efficacy of the blood of Christ, by affir- 
ming that EVERY ONE, WHO HATH THIS HOPE IN HIM, 
PURIFIETH HIMSELF AS THE SAVIOUR IS PURE. 

In noticing the effects of the christian hope, it is pro- 
per that, in the first place, we consider its tendency as 
one of the fruits of the Spirit. All these fruits cluster 
together, and cherish and promote the growth of each 
other. Where one of them is found, there they all pre- 
vail. And none of them are to be found, except in the 
person who has been born from above by the power of 
the Holy Spirit, and thus set forward in that wonderful 
progression from guilt and pollution to perfect holiness 
and glorification. So that from the very circumstance, 
that any one is born again, it will necessarily follow that 
he will become more and more holy. Christian hope 
is especially associated, by one of the apostles, with two 
other of the graces of the Spirit, as though they preem- 
inently belonged together, and had a singleness of ten- 
dency. Of one of these it is said, that it works by the 
other, and purifies the heart ; while the other with 
which it thus operates, is the fairest reflection of the di- 
vine nature, and will remain after there shall be no far- 
ther occasion for the agencies, and no more opportuni- 
ty for the existence, of the others. From a view, then, 
of christian hope, as one of the graces of the Holy Spir- 



THE CHRISTIAN HOPE. 251 

it, we must see, that it cannot exist together with the 
love and indulgence of sin. It prevails and flourishes 
just in proportion as the dominion of sin is narrowed 
and weakened. If it be a strong and prevailing hope, 
it will be mighty in its purifying efficacy. 

Aside however, from the influence of christian hope 
as one of the graces of the Spirit, the specific objects 
it has in view, are such as must suggest motives to ho- 
liness of a character altogether irresistible. Among 
men of the world, with their comparatively low and 
worthless objects, hope has a mighty power. It moves 
all the vast machinery of this world's plans and enter- 
prises. Let the hope of this world cease, and with 
it would cease all its great and absorbing move- 
ments, and universal stagnation in its business and pur- 
suits would at once ensue. This hope too, leads to 
appropriate efforts — efforts suited to secure the attain- 
ment of its objects. Now if such- be the sway of a hope, 
which has for its objects things corruptible, perishable, 
transitory; what must be the practical tendency of that 
hope, which is looking forward to a class of objects un- 
speakably grand and glorious, pure and blessed, satis- 
fying and unfailing ? Take the particular objects to 
which there is a reference in the text. What will be 
the natural effect, on the christian, of his hope that res- 
pects the last glorious appealing of the great God, our 
Saviour ? It may be safely averred as in the nature of 
things impossible, that any one can hope for this event, 
and not labor to perfect holiness in the fear of God. 
The christian can no more hope for that event, without 
laboring to be prepared for it, than the husbandman can 
hope for a harvest, without attending to any of the pre- 
paratory measures of sowing and cultivating the crop. 
If he is looking forward to that scene, with the intimate 
familiarity with its nature and consequences which hope 
implies, he is at the same time earnest in his desires to 
be accepted, and confident in his assurance that through 
grace he shall be. With the day of the manifestation 



252 OBJECTS AND EFFECTS OF 

of the sons of God in view, as the object of joyful hope, 
he will think of nothing so much, and labor for nothing 
so much, as to persevere to the last in a holy and blame- 
less course. 

Again, what will be the natural effect, on the chris- 
tian, of his hope of ere long having a perfected knowl- 
edge and enjoyment of God? Because he has this 
hope in him, he has some knowledge and enjoyment of 
God now — a knowledge and enjoyment which he per- 
ceives to be proportionate to his measure of sancti- 
ncation. And must not the assured hope of the per- 
fection of what he now esteems of more value than all 
knowledge and enjoyment besides, constrain him to un- 
wearied endeavors to grow in grace and in the knowl- 
edge of Jesus Christ. Can he live in the anticipation 
of this state of enlarged discoveries and full fruition of 
God, and not keep all his powers in rigid discipline, 
and all the energies of his soul screwed up to their high- 
est endeavors after so blessed an attainment ! Ah ! with 
such a hope, he cannot but pant after clearer, wider 
views, and more pure and exalted enjoyment of the un- 
searchable Jehovah. He cannot remit exertion, and 
relax into a state of indolent acquiescence in his pres- 
ent darkened views, and transient, limited participa- 
tion of the fulness of the divine blessedness. But it 
is the hope of a future likeness to God which, above 
every thing else, must invigorate the christian in the 
work of making himself pure. This object, in its 
branches, may be regarded as embracing all that is un- 
der heaven desirable. To be Kke God, holy and in- 
corruptible, must be the highest object of desire and 
the most attractive end for attainment, that can ever be 
presented to a created mind. This must move the 
christian, if every thing besides fails. He cannot hope 
for an immortality of pure and uninterrupted pleasures, 
and not labor with all his powers to pursue, every step 
of mortal life, the way of holiness. He will act under 
the full impression, that he cannot reach a holy heaven 



THE CHRISTIAN HOPE. 253 

without following in a holy path ; that he cannot reap life 
everlasting without sowing to the Spirit; that he can- 
not be finally, like the Saviour, without seeking by eve- 
ry possible means to become now more exact in his 
resemblance of him, and more assiduous in the imita- 
tion of his pure and perfect character. With this hope 
in him, he will continually strive to approach nearer 
and nearer to that likeness with which he is so soon to be 
beautified : and to imbibe more and more of that spirit, 
which reigns in all the realms of the blessed. With 
this hope in him, he will never be discouraged in 
his attempts to have his conversation in heaven — to 
hold intercourse with that bright world, and to conduct 
as one who is "free by birth" 

" Of no mean city ; planned, or e'er the hills 
Were built, the fountains opened, or the sea, 
With ail his roaring multitudes of waves/' 

Yes, with this hope in him of being speedily ar- 
rayed in all the beauties of perfect and perpetual holi- 
ness, he will watch and pray, labor and pant for a full 
conformity to the spirit of the just made perfect. I 
might go on to speak of this hope in leading to holy 
obedience, through the medium of gratitude. If we 
are enabled to rejoice in the hope of the glory of God, 
we owe it to him alone. And who with such a privi- 
lege can forbear to testify his love and gratitude by 
presenting himself a living sacrifice, holy, and accepta- 
ble to God ? The effects of hope in leading to holy 
obedience, will become apparent in removing difficul- 
ties and imparting confidence to the mind. Is the 
christian persuaded that nothing shall separate him 
from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord ? Up- 
held by this assurance, having for an helmet the hope of 
salvation, and defended by the shield of faith, what 
dangers will he fear, or what obstacles will he not sur- 
mount in the path of holy obedience ? Be it, that the 
waves of this world roll high and strong against him, yet 

22 



254 OBJECTS AND EFFECTS OF, &C. 

he is kept safe and unmoved by the sure and steadfast 
anchor of the soul. Be it, that trials await him, he is 
certain of final victory, and therefore he goes forward 
to conflict and to conquest. 

Here then, my friends, we have the only safe test of 
our religious state. It is not that we are reputed be- 
lievers ; it is not that we have high hopes of heaven ; 
it is not that we are not troubled with doubts and fears 
as to the future. Away with all such delusive tokens 
of a safe condition. Do we labor to purify ourselves ? 
Do our hopes excite us to grow in grace and holiness ? 
Do they constrain us to cultivate integrity of character, 
simplicity of heart, long suffering, gentleness, goodness, 
meekness, temperance ? Do they make us crucify the 
flesh with its affections and lusts ? Talk not of your 
views, your feelings, your confidences, and your hopes. 
Religious profession and religious talk are in themselves 
worthless, and prove nothing. Are we actually purify- 
ing ourselves as Christ is pure ? If not, our hopes are 
spurious, and will lead us to eternal despair. Be not 
deceived, my hearers, in this amazingly solemn and mo- 
mentous concern. Every one — yes every one who 
has a christian hope — a hope which will not prove a 
spider's web in the last day, is living in the daily mor- 
tification of every sin and sinful affection ; and in the 
spirit of habitual obedience to the will of God. 



&Ef£M©]\ T XX. 



Repentance of Juda*. 



MATTHEW XXVII. 3,4,5. 

THEN JUDAS WHICH HAD BETRAYED HIM, WHEN HE SAW THAT 
HE WAS CONDEMNED, REPENTED HIMSELF, AND BROUGHT A- 
GAIN THE THIRTY PIECES OF SILVER TO THE CHIEF PRIESTS 
AND ELDERS, SAYING I HAVE SINNED IN THAT I HAVE BE- 
TRAYED THE INNOCENT BLOOD. AND THEY SAID, WHAT IS 
THAT TO US? SEE THOU TO THAT. AND HE CAST DOWN THE 
PIF.CES OF SILVER IN THE TEMPLE, AND DEPARTED, AND 
WENT AND HANGED HIMSELF. 



It must ever be an object of serious concern with 
such as are earnest in the pursuit of salvation, accurate- 
ly to distinguish between what is essential on their part, 
and what is not, to so happy a close of their probationary 
existence. In the light of the scriptures, the grounds of 
such distinction are not, indeed, obscure. As might be 
expected, the word of God very clearly and fully an- 
nounces what man must do to be saved. Throughout 
its great disclosures, are variously presented the con- 
ditions on which it pleases the Father of lights to offer 
eternal life to the children of men. To prevent the 
misapprehension of these conditions and to illustrate 
their nature, there is exhibited on the pages of inspira- 
tion the character of those who so fulfilled them, as to 
share the promised salvation. But as these conditions 
consist very much in certain dispositions and exercises 



256 REPENTANCE OF JUDAS. 

of mind, which, in some of their forms and modifica- 
tions, may be cherished by those who are far from 
righteousness ; to make it still plainer what must be 
done in order to be saved, by showing what may be 
done with apparent reference to this end and yet be 
lost, the scriptures present us with individual cases, 
which strikingly illustrate the difference between acts 
or dispositions of the mind, which are nominally alike, 
but essentially and decisively unlike. Such an illustra- 
tion is furnished in the cases of two of the first disci- 
ples of our Saviour. They both abandoned themselves 
to acts of extreme guiltiness. Judas betrayed the Sa- 
viour into the hands of his murderers. Peter denied 
with an oath in the presence of his enemies, that he 
knew him. They both repented. But Judas perish- 
ed, went to his own place, was lost eternally. While 
Peter obtained forgiveness and everlasting salvation. 
Their repentance must, therefore, have been entirely 
different in its nature. This difference will be suffi- 
ciently apparent, if we examine the case of each. And 
with a view to present clearly to every mind the dis- 
tinction between that repentance which is unto life and 
that which worketh death, I propose to consider in two 
separate discourses each of these interesting cases. The 
one which the text brings to view, will suggest topics 
for present remarks. 

I. Let us notice several respects in which the re- 
pentance of Judas resembled true repentance. 

1 . It resembled true repentance in the conviction of 
sin with which it was attended. It is not important to 
inquire through what means or instrumentality he was 
rendered conscious at the time of his deep sinfulness. 
It may have been occasioned by the direct agency of 
the Holy Spirit. Or it may have arisen from a more 
clear perception of the deep spirituality, the exceeding 
comprehensiveness, and ineffable purity of the divine 
law. Or it may have been only the actings of a con- 
science not yet wholly seared. But that he had strong 



REPENTANCE OF JUDAS. 



257 



convictions of sin, is apparent from his whole deport- 
ment. He was evidently filled with horror at the sinful- 
ness of his conduct. He saw and felt the truth of what 
the Saviour had declared in reference to him, that it 
had been good for him, if he had never been born. It 
seems probable, that as soon as he saw that Christ 
was condemned, an overwhelming sense of his sins 
came suddenly upon him. Such a sense as he had 
never before had. Such a taste of its bitterness as sur- 
passed all his previous conceptions of the evil of sin- 
ning against God. 

2. His repentance resembled true repentance in that 
it led him to an undisguised confession of his guilt. 
His language is full and affecting on this point. I have 

SINNED IN THAT I HAVE BETRAYED THE INNOCENT 

blood. He manifests no disposition to conceal his 
criminality, to apologize for it, or to blame others for it. 
He does not tell them as in truth he might, that they 
had sinned in hiring him to betray the harmless Jesus, 
but that he had sinned in doing it. This confession, 
no doubt, was heart-felt as well as full and unequivocal. 
Though he saw it was too late to repair the injury he 
had done, when his Lord was condemned, bound and 
led away by the cruel priests and elders, yet he could 
not forbear to proclaim his own guilt and the Saviour's 
innocence. 

3. True repentance is attended with sorrow, and so 
was his. When he considered what he had done, he 
was filled with grief and anguish of soul. He perceiv- 
ed himself to be the guilty occasion of all the indigni- 
ties and cruelties, which had then begun to be heaped 
on his Lord and Master. Indeed, what could he think 
of at that awful crisis, which would not pierce his soul 
with sorrow. The Saviour bound, and buffeted, and 
spit upon — the priests with whom he had conspired a- 
gainst him — the cankered and burning rewards of his 
iniquity still in his reluctant possession — and his own 
hopeless destiny, were the only subjects upon which 

22* 



258 REPENTANCE OF JUDAS- 

his mind could dwell. And they were subjects that 
must bring over his soul the tide of consuming sorrows, 
in fierce and increasing violence. Though he did not 
express it in language of words, yet by his conduct he 
declared that his sorrow of heart, the curse of God upon 
him, was greater than he could bear. 

4. His self-condemnation resembled true repentance. 
There was nothing in his language or conduct, which 
could be interpreted as evincing any disposition to jus- 
tify himself; on the contrary all he said and did was 
of a nature to show, that, from some cause or other, he 
felt disposed to blame and condemn no one but him- 
self. It seems likely that the sudden discovery of his 
foolish and ruinous act in betraying his Master, absorb- 
ed his whole mind, and left him no thoughts to bestow 
on the guilt and wretchedness of his late confederates 
in crime. He condemned himself, not because he had 
sinned against God ; but because he saw the unreason- 
ableness of delivering, into the hands of bloody men, 
the meek and unoffending Saviour — because he percei- 
ved the extreme folly of exchanging his personal com- 
fort and happiness for so worthless and wretched a tri- 
fle — and because he could not but feel that the benevo- 
lent Jesus deserved from him a very different treatment. 

5. He resembled a true- penitent in his anxiety to pre- 
vent the evil consequences of his crime, and in his re- 
nunciation of its rewards. As soon as he saw his Mas- 
ter condemned, bound, and dragged away by the mad 
priesthood, he hastened to those priests and elders who 
had been parties with him in the traitorous covenant, 
with a view, if possible, to stay the horrid procedure, 
and to prevent the fatal catastrophe. This, indeed, 
however much the object of his desire, he had no good 
reason to expect. After what Christ had repeatedly 
declared in his presence respecting his approaching 
death by wicked hands, and the agency which this false- 
hearted disciple should have in the transaction, he might 
have known that in this stage of the affair the crisis was 



REPENTANCE OF JUDAS. 259 

passed. He might have known too, that if it is with 
difficulty we arrest our own steps in the ways of sin, 
much less can we stop those whom we have contribu- 
ted to impel in the downward career of transgression. 
Our example may hasten sinners in the descent of crime, 
but it has not power in itself effectually to prevent their 
progress towards its disastrous termination. But though 
Judas had no reasonable prospect of success, he yield- 
ed to the prompting of earnest desires, and brought 

AGAIN THE THIRTY PIECES OF SILVER TO THE CHIEF 

priests and elders. This must have assured them, 
more strongly than any declaration of his, that he re- 
gretted what he had done, and was anxious to prevent 
the evil which he anticipated might result from it. Had 
he done this previous to the decisive act of betraying 
the Saviour, it would have yielded him satisfaction — 
now he could do it only with the horror of a hopeless 
regret.^ It was not, however, too late to make this pub- 
lic restitution, for it can never be unseasonable to do 
that which is right in itself, though it was too late to ar- 
rest the progress of the evil. But this is not the only 
proof of his solicitude, that the consequences of his 
traitorous act might be prevented. He publicly de- 
clared in the presence of those who had just condemned 
the Saviour as guilty, that he was innocent. I have 

BETRAYED THE INNOCENT BLOOD. As if lie had Said, 

" You, indeed, pronounce him guilty of death ; but I, 
who have known him from the first ; I, who have en- 
joyed the best means of detecting any thing criminal in 
his life and character ; I, who have betrayed him, and 
am, therefore, interested in discovering any thing in him, 
which might furnish some plausible pretence for my 
conduct towards him, I, under these circumstances and 
with a deep sense of my own criminality, declare to you 
that he is beyond the reach of suspicion — beyond the 
possibility of doing wrong ; that he is holy, harmless, 
undefiled, and separate in character from sinners /" 



260 REPENTANCE OF JUDAS. 

Such are some of the particulars in which the repent- 
ance of Judas Iscariot resembled that repentance which 
is unto life. 

II. Let us now consider in what respects it differed 
from it. 

1. It differed from it in its origin. It did not arise 
from just views of sin, but was occasioned by the dis- 
covery of a result of his treacherous conduct, entirely 
contrary to that which he had anticipated. There is 
reason to suppose that this miserable man expected 
that Christ, either by his almighty power, would effect 
his escape from his enemies, or by his wisdom and 
knowledge, would have so defended himself before their 
tribunal as to have secured a release from their custody, 
and thus the traitor would reap the reward of iniquity, 
without seriously injuring the Saviour. But, whether 
this was so or not, it was clearly his surprise at seeing 
his Master condemned and his own guilt in the trans- 
action, rather than any just perception of the evil of sin, 
which produced his repentance. It was not a regret 
growing out of the discovery of sin as a causeless assault 
upon the very throne of God, and as the infliction of a 
terrible evil on the infinitely precious interests of his 
moral empire. But he repented himself — he was 
filled with grief, anguish, and indignation, when he per- 
ceived how he had erred in this matter and exposed the 
innocent Immanuel to nameless indignities and suffer- 
ings. Again, as his repentance did not proceed from 
correct views of sin, so neither did it arise from a heart 
softened, and rendered exquisitely sensible to the odious 
nature of sin. Had the Saviour escaped, his sin would 
have remained the same, but he would not have repent- 
ed of it. He estimated its evil by its present conse- 
quences, and not by the divine law. 

2. It differed from true repentance in its object. 
Evangelical repentance relates to sin in general, and 
especially to that whole series of sinful exercises and 
actions, which constitute the character of fallen man. 



REPENTANCE OF JUDAS. 261 

He repented of only one — his betraying the innocent 
Saviour. He probably felt no uneasiness in view of 
the whole train of vicious habits and practices, which 
directly led the way to this. He did not say, nor is it 
at all likely he felt, that he had sinned in that for years 
he had cherished a spirit of insatiable avarice, had been 
a thief, and so greedy of gain that he coveted the most 
trifling expenditure in honor of Christ. He did not 
repent of his duplicity, long and artful concealment of 
his ultimate intentions, or of his continued obstinate re- 
jection of Christ as his Saviour. 

3. It differed from true repentance in its extent. It 
was not only confined and limited in its object, but par- 
tial and superficial in its extent. It was in none of its 
branches deep and thorough. He was convicted, but 
not humbled. He confessed his sin, but it was only to 
the ear of man. It was not like the prodigal's confes- 
sion — Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy 
sight. He sorrowed; but it was not so much on account 
of the crime as its consequences. Had the betrayed 
not been condemned, the traitor would have felt no sor- 
row ; or if he had felt sorrow, it would have been 
awakened by the apprehension of evils which the guilty 
act might bring on himself. He was evidently a stran- 
ger to those emotions of poignant sorrow which arise in 
the mind from contemplating the injury done to God and 
man by a whole life of sin. He condemned himself 
too, but it clearly was not because he felt himself justly 
condemned in the sight of God — it was not because he 
loathed and abhorred himself on account of his treach- 
erous treatment of the Saviour. And his solicitude to 
prevent the consequences of this guilty conduct, can 
hardly be regarded as proceeding from feelings of 
contrition for the act, or of compassion for Christ. 
It sprung rather from pure selfishness. He saw what 
would be the consequences to himself, if his Master 
should be taken away. He was anxious, therefore, 
to interrupt the procedure, to retard the progress 



362 REPENTANCE OF JUDAS. 

of transactions towards a crisis, and to prevent a re- 
sult which would be ruinous to his worldly hopes 
and selfish plans. Nor can his apparent renuncia- 
tion of the reward of his crime be considered as in- 
dicating any thorough change in his temper and char- 
acter. He cast it down in a fit of desperation — it was 
wrenched from him by an agony of despair. He clung 
to it, until he determined no longer to cling to life. He 
gave it up only when he gave up life. In a word, his 
repentance though it led him to renounce the reward 
of his iniquity, did not lead him to renounce iniquity 
itself — though it included the disrelish and hatred of 
the consequences of sin, it did not include the hatred of 
sin on account of its very nature — though it filled his 
heart with sorrow, it did not break and soften his heart. 
It gave him all the bitterness, with none of the sweets 
— all the despair with none of the hopes of true repen- 
tance. 

4. It differed from true repentance in its issue. — 
True repentance issues in reconciliation to God, faith 
in Christ, purity of life, hope in death, and the fruition 
of heaven. The repentance of Judas was unlike this 
in each of these respects. Although the nature of his 
sins, probably, was not such as forbid that they should 
be pardoned, yet he continued to rebel against God and 
to reject the Saviour, until he was brought to the con- 
clusion, that his iniquity was too great to be pardoned. 
When he found his previous associates in crime relent- 
less in their murderous purpose against the Saviour ; 
when he found they had no ear to hear his confessions, 
and no sympathy with his distress, he at once despaired 
of help alike from God and man, and suddenly thrust 
himself beyond the reach of divine mercy. To allay 
the anguish of the remorse that was kindled up and 
burning in his own bosom, he plunged himself into ev- 
erlasting burnings. To escape from the flame, he threw 
himself into the fire. So wretched was this ruined sin- 
ner, that he sought relief in hell ! 



REPENTANCE OF JUDAS. 263 

Lessons of great practical importance may obviously 
be derived from this affecting subject, a few of which 
only can now be particularly noticed. 

1. We may bear a very close resemblance to the true 
disciples of Christ, and yet belong to the number of his 
enemies, and perish with them. Long did the unhappy 
Judas appear as one of the sincere followers of the Sa- 
viour. So nearly did he imitate them in his character 
and demeanor, that, for a succession of years, no ma- 
terial defect was detected in him. And after he had 
developed the dark lines in his character by betraying 
his Master into the hands of bloody men, he even then 
entertained such views, felt such emotions, and exhibi- 
ted such features of character as also belong to sincere 
penitents. Nor are we permitted to conclude, that ca- 
ses like his are rare. How important, then, is it care- 
fully to discriminate between the marks of true and false 
repentance. Certainly the distinction between them is 
clear and decisive. The false penitent, like Judas nev- 
er forms just views of the nature of sin ; never hates it 
as an evil done to God and his fellow men ; never in 
this view, mourns for it ; never frankly and ingenuously 
confesses it ; and never carefully avoids it. He con- 
sequently never ceases to be in the attitude of cordial 
opposition to God ; never ceases to despise and reject 
Christ as his Saviour ; and never experiences the peace 
and quiet of mind, which result from a state of believ- 
ing confidence and cheering hope. Shall not as many 
of us as cannot find these things in our case, immedi- 
ately come to the conclusion that our repentance is that 
which worketh death ? Shall one of us remain yet lon- 
ger without the most unequivocal evidence that our re- 
l pentance is unto life ? God has settled the point, that, 
without such repentance, we cannot be saved. How- 
1 ever nearly our exercises may resemble theirs who 
bring forth fruit meet for repentance, if they be not 
such views and feelings, we are liable to lie down in 



264 REPENTANCE OF JUDAS. 

endless sorrow. Only just to fail of heaven, is com- 
pletely and forever to make our bed in hell ! 

2. The subject teaches us, that professed attachment to 
Christ greatly heightens the guilt of sin, and renders an 
indulgence in it singularly dangerous. Committed 
under such circumstances, sin is the violation of higher 
obligations, the rejection of stronger claims, the resis- 
tance of a greater number and weight of motives, and, 
consequently, the mark of a deeper depravity of heart. 
It is the first and great duty of all men to cherish a sin- 
cere and unalterable attachment to Christ. But it can 
never be the duty of any to profess such an attachment, 
when it is not really felt. They who sin against Christ 
after such a profession, therefore, break asunder the 
very bonds which they themselves had voluntarily wound 
around them, throw off the restraints which they had 
placed themselves under, and add to all the aggravated 
sins which the circumstance serves to increase, the sin 
of base and wilful hypocrisy. But what aggravates the 
sin of the professed followers of Christ, is that it is sin 
against light and knowledge. They cannot plead ne- 
cessary ignorance of his character and laws. They 
must know that his service, and obedience to him, are 
compatible with the truest freedom and essential to the 
purest happiness — they must know, that in sinning they 
wrong their own souls and despise their own mercy. 
Again, the guilt and aggravation of their sin is to be es- 
timated by the superior evil it does, when committed 
by those of the Saviour's household. They, of all oth- 
ers, can most grievously wound his cause by betraying 
his interests. One sinner, any where, destroyeth much 
good ; but no where, so much, as when that sinner be- 
longs to the professed disciples of Christ. Nor need it 
scarcely be added, that as sin thus committed gathers 
about it peculiar guilt, so its indulgence under these 
circumstances is unspeakably perilous. Few in the 
church of Christ, who resist and harden themselves 
against the easy yoke of Christ, we are constrained to 



REPENTANCE OF JUDAS. 265 

conclude, are ever the subjects of his salvation. Nor, 
as theirs is no ordinary guilt, is theirs a common per- 
dition. As they break asunder stronger ties of obliga- 
tion, so they wear heavier chains of darkness in the 
dungeon of eternal despair. As they venture to obtrude 
themselves into the holiest community on earth, so they 
sink to the deepest gulf in hell ! Let all hypocrites 
in Zion remember the end of Judas, and warned by his 
doom, escape while there may yet be hope. 

3. No one can ultimately gain any thing by sinning 
against Christ. They, indeed, who do this, have their 
reward. But it is a wretched profit, as contemplated 
in the light and estimated by the standard of the pres- 
ent world. They who covet and obtain it, find in the 
end, as Judas did, that it biteth like a serpent and sting- 
eth like an adder. Whatever it be that leads men to 
sin against the Saviour, whether it be profit, or plea- 
sure, or worldly reputation, its emptiness and worth- 
lessness will be, in measure, revealed, long before the 
revelation of all things. Before men die, and in the 
view of speedy death, they lose their relish for these? 
things, and see their bitter mistake in preferring them 
to the service and salvation of Christ. They often 
stand stripped of every thing which they then can deem 
valuable on the brink of eternity, and are shoved out of 
life with unavailing endeavors to exchange what through 
life they had clung to, for the favor and friendship of the 
Saviour. But no sinner fully knows in this world, how 
much he loses, by preferring the reward of iniquity to 
the enjoyment of God. But we may know enough 
from the example of some and the declarations of in- 
spired truth, to safely conclude, that nothing can be 
ultimately gained, but every thing truly valuable must 
be lost, by those who sin against the Redeemer of lost 
man! 

And now, my beloved hearers, are any of you will- 
ing to take up with the reward of Judas ? If you are 
not, you must hasten to cast it away from you. For if 

23 



266 REPENTANCE OF JUDAS. 

you. are actually preferring a course of sin to a life of 
faith and self-denial, you are clinging to the same thing 
in substance which disappointed this false disciple, and 
drove him to despair and perdition., If you are not 
sincerely and deeply repentant, if you do not cordially 
renounce the practice and the profits of sin — if you do 
not give up your whole souls with affectionate and un- 
wavering confidence to Christ and his cause — you are 
following in the old way which Judas trod. Ponder 
on this subject. You have an unspeakable concern in 
it. It is a terrible calamity, which no language can de- 
scribe, to fail of salvation ! 



SEKRIOJtf XXI 



Repentance of Peter. 



LUKE XXII. 60, 61, 62, 

AND IMMEDIATELY, WHILE HE YET SPAKE, THE COCK CREW. 
AND THE LORD TURNED, AND LOOKED UPON PETER ; AND 
PETER REMEMBERED THE WORD OF THE LORD, HOW HE 
HAD SAID UNTO HIM, BEFORE THE COCK CROW, THOU SHALT 
PENY ME THRICE. AND PETER WENT OUT AND WEPT BIT- 
TERLY. 



That decisive act, which marks the recovery of a. 
real believer from a state of guilty aberration from duty 
and happiness, possesses points of remarkable interest. 
Such an event not only furnishes a delightful confirma- 
tion of the great truth, that no one who has been the 
subject of spiritual views and affections, shall ever be 
wrested from the hand of almighty Grace, but illus- 
trates the nature of those exercises which are peculiar 
to the children of God. The passage just repeated, 
is the faithful record of an event of this kind, connected 
with such incidents and circumstances, as serve to show 
what the important act is, which must ever be involved 
in a sinner's truly turning to the Lord. Early in our 
Saviour's ministry, the apostle Peter was favored with 
views of his character, which belong not to the discov- 
eries of natural reason. To an inquiry which our Lord 
addressed to his disciples respecting his person and 
character, Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art 



268 REPENTANCE OF PETER. 

the Christ, the Son of the living God. It seems to 
have been in reference to this belief, so contrary to the 
prevailing opinions of men, and this confession so un- 
hesitating and heart-felt, that this disciple was surnam- 
ed Peter. And Jesus answered and said, Blessed art 
thou, Simon, Barjona; for flesh and blood hath not 
revealed if unto thee, but my Father who is in heaven. 
And I say unto thee, that thou art Peter, and upon 
this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell 
shall not prevail against it. That is — Thou art a 
rock — strong, stable, and not shaken by the fluctuating 

opinions respecting me — and upon this rock upon 

such a belief and such a profession of this great truth, 
I build my church. 

Yet this disciple, who was enabled thus to believe 
and Confess Christ before men, was subsequently left to 
fall. It belongs not to the plan of the present discourse, 
to go into an examination of the causes and the pro- 
gress of his guilty defection. His naturally ardent and 
impetuous temperament, doubtless, had an agency in 
leading to the great sin of denying his Lord. He was 
rash in his determinations, and confident in his opinions. 
His fearlessness of danger carried him beyond the reach 
of self-control. When it was too late, he found that, 
because his zeal had not been coupled with a humble 
reliance on divine aid, and his courage tempered with 
jealous fear, he had gradually abandoned him to whom 
he had vowed perpetual allegiance ; and suddenly de- 
nied him, for whose sake he had but lately professed a 
willingness to lay down his own life. But the text calls 
us off from the contemplation of this dark portion of his 
history, to notice that which presents indications of his 
progressive recovery. It is profitable, though painful, 
to follow the believer in his devious departures from 
God ; but it is a service no less useful, and one of un- 
mixed delight, to trace his returning steps back to the 
sphere of his duty and the centre of his joys. Such is 
the service to which we are now invited. And imme- 



REPENTANCE OF PETER. 269 

DIATELY, WHILE HE YET SPAKE, THE COCK CREW, 
AND THE LORD TURNED, AND LOOKED UPON PETER ; 
AND PETER REMEMBERED THE WORD OF THE LORD, 
HOW HE HAD SAID UNTO HIM, BEFORE THE COCK CROW, 
THOU SHALT DENY ME THRICE. AND PETER WENT 
OUT AND WEPT BITTERLY. 

The natural arrangement of topics here presented, will 
be followed by some observations on the means of Pe- 
ter's repentance, the sorrow with which it was attended, 
and the effects which followed it. 

I. The means of his repentance . Though in the 
unseen movements of his mind and heart, there was a 
grievous and distant departure from Christ, yet he did 
not openly forsake him utterly. Many motives of a low 
and unworthy character, no doubt, had influence in re- 
straining him from such a course. His conscience, his 
curiosity, and even his pride may have formed an un- 
natural union, and by their combined power detained 
him at no great visible distance from the Saviour. He 
came even into the judgment-hall, and there, in sight of 
his Lord and master, mingling with his enemies, repeat- 
edly declared that he knew nothing of him, was not one 
of his followers, and in short was ignorant of all circum- 
stances which led them to suspect him. But here, just 
as he had uttered this last declaration, a circumstance 
apparently unimportant occurred, which awaked him 
from his guilty reverie. And immediately, while 
he yet spake, the cock crew. To him there was 
a terrible significancy in this occurrence. An incident, 
unnoticed by others, had to him the voice of thunder. 
Only a few hours had elapsed, since in reply to his in- 
considerate declaration of a willingness to go with his 
Master, both into prison, and to death, Christ had said, 
J[ tell thee, Peter, the crock shall not crow this day, be- 
fore thou shalt thrice deny, that thou knowest me. And 
when this signal occurred, just as he was cursing and 
swearing, and averring that he knew not the man, how 
must it have rung in his ears ; how must it have pene- 

23* 



270 REPENTANCE OF PETER. 

trated his soul ; how must it have restored him to him- 
self; how must it have spread out before his astonished 
mind, as with the rapidity and vividness of the lightning's 
flash, the heartlessness of his professions, the infirmity 
of his purpose, the blackness of his ingratitude, the deep 
criminality of his whole conduct in thus basely shrinking 
from an open avowal of himself, and a decided and un- 
wavering defence of his Master, and attachment to his 
person and kingdom ! Though in itself a trifling inci- 
dent, it was mighty through God. It was as a nail in 
a sure place. It was as the voice of God echoed, and 
re-echoed through all the chambers of his soul. It ef- 
fectually aroused him, and prepared him to be reached 
and benefited by other means of recovering him from 
a state of such alarming defection. 

2. Among these means, was the interposition of 
Christ. And the lord turned, and looked upon 
peter. It would be impossible for us to tell what was 
expressed by that look. Doubtless there was more 
than words could have revealed. In the human coun- 
tenance is often to be read a language, which no human 
tongue can utter. What then must the awakened Peter 
have read at this awful moment, in the countenance of 
him who spake as never man spake ! It was the look 
of him, whose frown alone is enough to sink the whole 
universe of created minds to despair. It was the look 
of him, whose smile can spread joy and gladness as 
wide as sin and woe extend. But whatever it was, it 
was a look which. Peter could read and understand. 
He had been familiar with the Saviour's countenance. 
And though he now beheld expressions there, which he 
had not before witnessed, yet he was quick to learn the 
new language, which his own base conduct had there 
written. Shall we suppose, that the first cast of his, 
countenance towards this offending disciple, was with a 
view to excite in his mind a clear impression of his deep 
criminality ? O, how then did Peter read there a lan- 
guage to his heart like this — " Is it true that you do not 



REPENTANCE OF PETER. 271 

know me, my unhappy disciple ? Look me in the 
face, and then say, if your heart will allow it, that you 
know not the man." Was there a frown on his sacred 
countenance, as he turned and looked upon peter ? 
How did it pierce his heart, as if he had said, " False- 
hearted disciple ! you know with what deep displeasure 
I regard your conduct — you know I cannot but loathe 
you on account of this crooked course you have chosen 
to pursue." Did his countenance assume the features 
of earnest expostulation ? Then did Peter read there 
the subduing language, — " Simon, son of Jonas, can it 
be that you forsake me, when you ought to come and 
testify to my innocence ? Can you deny me, when 
you were the first to acknowledge me to be the Son of 
God ? Can you abandon me so soon to the fury of 
my enemies, when you, but a few hours since, avowed 
yourself ready to go with me into prison and to death ?" 
But compassion beamed from that countenance, and it 
came to Peter's bosom in language more sweet, and 
melting than ever flows from Seraph lips. " Helpless 
disciple, satan hath desired to have thee, and thou hast 
no power to escape. Already art thou almost in his 
hand. Nothing can save thee but my own almighty 
Grace. But my compassion fails not, and you shall yet 
be rescued from the power of the roaring lion." And 
think you there was no efficacy in his look ? Think 
you, that no virtue went out of him, as he turned and 
looked upon peter ? Suppose ye, that the gaze of 
Jesus did nothing towards the recovery of Peter ? How 
could he meet unmoved those eyes that came with the 
cutting interrogatory — Knowest thou me not ? ' How 
could he remain unawed, unconvinced, unmelted, be- 
neath the radiance of that countenance which beamed 
with reproof, expostulation, and compassionate entreaty ? 
O, there was power in that look. Would, that the same 
look with equal efficacy, might be turned upon each 
wandering disciple, and hardened sinner in this assem- 
bly ! 



272 REPENTANCE OF PETER. 

3. His own serious reflections were among the means 
of his repentance. And peter remembered the 
word of the lord. The word of the Lord, brought 
to mind, is the great instrument usually employed in 
effecting any desirable change in the moral state of man. 
The word of the Lord here alluded to, was the decla- 
ration which our Saviour made to this disciple, but a 
short time previous to this trying occasion. He had 
been familiarly discoursing with the eleven disciples 
respecting the events which were then soon to take 
place, and, among other things, apprised them that in 
consequence of the treatment which he should receive, 
they would be greatly embarrassed, and induced to de- 
sert him. Then said Jesus unto them, All ye shall be 
offended because of me this night — for it is written, I 
will smite the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock shall 
be scattered. Peter answered, and said unto him, 
though all shall be offended because of thee, yet will I 
never be offended. Jesus said unto him, Verily I say 
unto thee, that this night, before the cock crow, thou 
shalt deny me thrice. Now as soon as Peter was arous- 
ed from the stupor of sin, and, by a look from the Sa- 
viour, was arrested in his guilty course, and convicted of 
his exceeding criminality, his mind recurred to the 
words of solemn warning, which before he had presump- 
tuously treated with heedless indifference. And the 
consideration of the manner in which he had received 
this warning, the circumstances under which it was 
given, and the sad fulfilment of the prediction it con- 
tained, was of a nature every way suited to touch his 
heart. His sins, in all respects, were peculiarly against 
the grace and compassion of Christ. He had regarded 
with the utmost unconcern, if not with actual contempt, 
a warning which the Saviour had given him with every 
mark of tender interest in his welfare — a warning which 
related to him solely, and in which he had an infinite 
concern. It was uttered too, at a time and under cir- 
cumstances, which ought to have secured to it his lively 



REPENTANCE OF PETER. 273 



rien 



interest and beart-felt regard. It was spoken wh< 
threatening dangers were already visibly clustering 
about the Saviour's .household. Everything about him 
seemed to urge a preparation for severe trial. Why did 
he neglect it ? He could have been led to it only by 
pride and self-confidence. He could not listen to a word 
which implied a weakness of principle — a feebleness of 
purpose in himself. Doubtless he felt angry, that his 
Master should say any thing which proceeded on the 
apprehension, that he was ignorant of himself, and did 
not know what he should do, when the trial came. 
But there was the bitter consequence of his thus treat- 
ing the warning of Christ — the guilty fulfilment, on his 
part, of the prediction contained in the warning. This 
came into his mind associated with the recollection of 
his other acts of pride and obduracy, and the whole 
fearful array of recollections, awakened emotions of 
poignant grief, the pangs of ingenuous regret. It was 
his heavenly Master that he had proudly disregarded, 
unreasonably deserted, and most wickedly denied ; and 
when he thought thereon his bosom swelled with the 
agonies of undissembled sorrow. 

II. The nature of the sorrow with which his repent- 
ance was attended. No one lives long in this world a 
stranger to sorrow. It is the inheritance of our fallen 
race. Indications of it, in some of its forms, are ever 
before us ; and pangs of it, in some of its varieties, al- 
most as constantly within us. But there is a sorrow 
that is to be coveted as the harbinger of peace and joy. 
And there is a sorrow, which is an earnest and foretaste 
of eternal sorrows. There is a sorrow which is unto 
life, and there is a sorrow which works death. The 
cause of sorrow is remotely the same in all ; but its na- 
ture and results are immensely diverse in different in- 
dividuals. The grand ultimate cause of the sorrow 
which Judas felt, was the same as that which occasioned 
that of Peter. But the sorrow of the one drove him to 



274 REPENTANCE OF PETER. 

despair and perdition ; while that of the other led him 
to hope and to heaven. I observe, therefore, 

1 . That the sorrow which attended the repentance of 
Peter was softening. He wept. His tears flowed 
because his heart bled. Tears may not be a sure token 
of a heart that is softened and subdued. The heart 
may be acquiring obduracy amidst floods of tears shed 
on account of serious convictions of sin. Instances of 
this have not been rare. It is nevertheless true, that 
those whose moral sensibilities have been quickened and 
whose consciences have been rendered alive to the evil, 
guilt, and pollution of sin, by the operation of sorrow 
on account of it, rarely feel that sorrow in any considera- 
ble degree without its calling forth their tears. That the 
tears of Peter bespoke the softening and melting influ- 
ence of his sorrow on his heart, there can be no doubt. 
Judas in all his agonies of sorrow shed no tears. His 
heart became harder by every successive pang of sor- 
row he felt. But the heart of Peter became tender 
like the heart of a child, and his tears gushed at every 
thought of his great sins against the grace and conde- 
scension of Immanuel. 

2. His sorrow was acute. He wept bitterly. 
He had sinned greatly, and he felt it deeply. It was 
not a few slight pangs of grief that he felt, which reach- 
ed only the surface of the heart ; but his was a sorrow 
that went to the bottom of his soul, broke up the foun- 
tain of the great deep, and poured it forth in tears. So 
exquisite was the anguish he felt, that it effectually cut 
up the root of the evil, and cured him of the least lin- 
gering propensity to do again so wickedly. He wept 
bitterly, for it was a bitter evil he had committed, not 
merely in its influence on himself, but in its aspect on 
the precious and everlasting interests of the moral crea- 
tion. It was in itself a feeble, but malignant thrust at 
the foundation of Jehovah's throne. His sin, like all 
sin, was in its tendency to derange the administration 
and defeat the purposes of boundless wisdom and be- 



REPENTANCE OF PETER. 275 

nevolence. It went, in the nature of its influence, to 
banish all that is pure, and lovely, and blissful from the 
range of universal being ! This his enlightened mind 
perceived — this his softened heart felt ; and therefore, 

HE WEPT BITTERLY. 

3. His sorrow was secret and unostentatious. He 
went out and wept. He did not retire from the 
high priest's hall, because he wished to avoid the pres- 
ence of Christ. He did not withdraw, because he was 
ashamed to betray his strong emotions in so public a 
place. But he retired from the very promptings of a 
deep and ingenuous sorrow. Such sorrow seeks re- 
tirement. It instinctively shuns places of concourse. 
It loves solitude. He had once before, during the trial 
of his Master, gone out into the porch to avoid, it is 
probable, the prying scrutiny of those who began to sus- 
pect him one of Christ's adherents. He now went out 
that he might weep in secret places over his guilt and 
shame. He went out, that himself alone might mourn 
over what himself alone had done. He wanted no 
partner of his sorrow, for he had had no associate in his 
crime. He had sinned against him who sees in secret, 
and none but he could now afford him relief or heal his 
wounded spirit. He went out, that in the depths of soli- 
tude, he might undisturbed give his whole soul to acts 
of humiliation, and repentance, and confession before 
God. He went out too, it may be, from the instinc- 
tive feeling that the desert, solitude, and gloom best sort- 
ed with the state of his own mind. But whichever of 
these, or whether all of these causes had an influence in 
leading him apart by himself alone, his seeking retire- 
ment in his sorrow, evinced its reality and its poignancy. 
The tale of inward anguish told by his tears, was no 
fiction of hypocrisy. He did not affect the grief, which 
he went to conceal in the bosom of solitude. 

III. The effects of his repentance. Here if no 
where else, becomes apparent the difference between 
the repentance of Judas and that of Peter. In the for- 



276 REPENTANCE OF PETER. 

mer case, it issued in despair and perdition. In the lat- 
ter it was followed by hope, and peace, and salvation. 
But it is chiefly the practical efficacy of his repentance 
which I am concerned to notice. 

1. This became visible in an increasing love for his 
divine Master. Before this serious lapse of the ardent 
Peter, he, doubtless, cherished an unfeigned attachment 
to Christ. - After this, however, he became bound to 
him by much stronger bands of love. So conscious 
was he of an increased affection for his Lord, and so 
thoroughly persuaded did he become of its genuineness 
and reality, that in a short time after the occurrence of 
the events we have been contemplating, he did not hesi- 
tate with humble confidence to appeal to the omnis- 
cience of the Saviour for the truth and sincerity of his 
love to him. Yea, Lord, thou knowest all things ; 
thou knowest, that I love thee. But it cannot be neces- 
sary to quote his own language in proof of his greatly 
increased affection for the Saviour, since his conduct 
through a series of years presents the most unequivocal 
proof of this. Indeed, his whole subsequent life on 
earth was devoted to the service and glory of his Lord 
and Master, with a constancy and earnestness, which 
nothing but supreme love could have inspired. Nay, 
so strong was his love, that he felt and yielded to its 
growing sway over his life, long after the palsy of age 
was upon him, and when he was just ready to put off 
his earthly tabernacle. 

2. The effects of his repentance were seen in his in- 
creased zeal and courage in the service of Christ. He, 
on one occasion only, denied his Master, but ever after 
was ready with boldness and constancy to confess him. 
Once he affirmed that he knew not the man; but very soon 
after, he was heard in the presence of a great concourse 
of those who had been auxiliary to the death of Christ, 
with undaunted firmness calling on all the house of Is- 
rael to know assuredly, that God had made that same 
Jesus, whom they had crucified, both Lord and Christ. 



REPENTANCE OF PETER. 277 

Indeed, the whole history of his subsequent life, is only 
a detail of acts which evince, what an impulse was from 
that time imparted to the holy determination, unbending 
firmness, and fearless zeal of that naturally ardent and 
impetuous apostle. Never was he weary in the work 
of his high calling. Never did he shrink from any dan- 
ger that might lie in the course which duty required 
him to take. Ever after was he the first to speak and 
the first to act, the last to grow weary and the last to 
suspend efforts in his Lord's cause. Much as he knew 
before of Christ, much as he loved him, and much as 
he resembled him, he ever after became in respect to 
these particulars a new man. His. character seemed to 
have become moulded after a new model. This im- 
portant incident seemed to have brought out features in 
his character with a prominence which marked the pro- 
cess of strong inward actings — which showed the diver- 
sion of the long habitual movements of his mind- — which 
told of the breaking up -of courses of thoughts and feel- 
ings that had gone on from early life. In a word, if he 
sinned greatly he loved much — if he had discovered 
the coward, he now went forth the moral hero — if he 
had been misrepresenting by his lukewarmness and in- 
difference the nature of his avowed faith, he now cor- 
rected the misrepresentation by being seen on all occa- 
sions a burning and a shining light. He was now 
entitled to the name of Peter. He now possessed the 
strength, the stability, and the constancy of a rock. 
There is an obvious application of this subject, 
1 . To established christians. A comparison between 
the character of Peter after his repentance, and their 
character, will doubtless suggest to some of my hearers, 
cause of humiliation, if not of fear in reference to their 
religious state. They must be led to see by such a 
comparison, that they^re following Peter at a greater 
distance, than that at which he followed Christ, even 
when he was on the point of denying him. Is there a 
professed disciple of Jesus present, that can discover in 

24 



278 REPENTANCE OF PETEE. 

himself any thing that approaches very near to the love, 
and zeal, and courage of Peter ? No good reason can 
exist, why the substantial and practical fruits of his re- 
pentance should not be visible in the case of each chris- 
tian in this assembly. If this subject, my brethren, 
does not humble us — if it does not give us a new im- 
pulse in our spiritual course — if it does not lead us to 
covet earnestly the best gifts — and to strive constantly 
to exhibit the best fruits of piety, it must be that we are 
too dead to feel the generous emotions of the living saint 
— too torpid to be moved by the high, and pure, and 
unvarying motives of Christianity ! 

2. The subject applies to the trembling penitent. It 
speaks to such in the language of encouragement. Ye, 
whose sorrow for sin resembles that of the weeping and 
solitary disciple, after the lord turned and looked 
upon him, ye have no cause to despair. Your tender 
consciences, your softened hearts, and your contrite 
spirits, are such a sacrifice as God accepts. Though 
you may instinctively reproach and condemn yourselves, 
the Lord does not despise and condemn you. " He 
counts and treasures up your tears." Refuse not, then, 
the consolation which there is in Christ. Let joy min- 
gle with your sorrow. Let tears of gratitude flow with 
your penitential tears. You may tremble, but yet trust. 
You may fear always, but never despair. There ds 
forgiveness with God, that he may be feared, and that 
penitent sinners may not despair. Encourage your- 
selves in a pardoning God. Lay hold of the hope set 
before you in the divine promises. With that anchor 
within the veil, let your souls rest ! 

3. The subject concerns hardened sinners. They 
must see, in what has been presented at this time, how 
grievously aggravated is the guilt of sinning against the 
condescension, the grace, and compassion of Immanuel. 
How black were the sins of Peter. But a view of them 
broke his heart, and they were pardoned. Thought- 
less sinners, why will you not seriously look into your 



REPENTANCE OF PETER. 279 

own case ? Why will you attend to every thing before 
you attend to the one thing needful ? Peter's sin and 
guilt did not exceed yours. He had less light than 
you, and stronger temptations to resist. O, that some 
voice might arouse you. O, that one look from the 
Lord of Glory might melt your heart — O, that you 
might think of your sins, and go out and weep bitterly ! 



SERUIOre XXII 



Salvation by Grace. 



EPHESIANS II. 8. 

BY GRACE ARE YE SAVED THROUGH FAITH ; AND THAT NOT OF 
YOURSELVES ? IT IS THE GIFT OF GOD. 



To be saved, is to be pardoned, reconciled to God, 
and sanctified by his Spirit. It is in every important 
respect the same momentous event to the whole family 
of man, however diversified in character and condition. 
The bible discloses but one way of salvation only to all, 
whether their lot be cast amidst the darkness and im- 
purity of pagan superstition, or amidst the light and 
refinement of christian communities. They are all, by 
the same means, delivered from essentially the same 
moral state. This is a state of ruinous apostacy — of 
deadness in trespasses and sins ; and the means of their 
deliverance are by grace, through faith, and that 

NOT OF THEMSELVES, IT IS THE GIFT OF GOD. Man's 

salvation, then, is by grace alone. To illustrate and 
apply this sentiment of the text, is the design of the 
present discourse. 

The term grace as here used, and when spoken of 
in relation to God, denotes his undeserved favor or 
kindness in the redemption and salvation of men. It 
is in its nature free, distinguishing, and efficacious. It 
isyree, as its subjects have no merits, and can make no 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 281 

recompense. It is discriminating, or special, as it ex- 
tends to some persons and not to others. It is efficacious, 
as it triumphs over the elements of human depravity, 
that oppose its sway. 

It is evident from the representations which the scrip- 
ture uniformly gives of the original state of man, that 
he cannot save himself. The very circumstance which 
renders the salvation of the gospel necessary, and to 
which it is exclusively adapted, is a state of entire help- 
lessness. A helplessness however, which is voluntary, 
and which consists wholly in the indisposition of the 
heart. The disorder itself creates an unwillingness to 
be cured. While man has a remedy within his reach, 
his very malady extinguishes the disposition to apply it. 
He lies in ruins which have crushed all desire to arise 
in his original comeliness and glory. He has accumu- 
lated a debt which he can never pay. He is involved 
in guilt from which he cannot deliver himself. He has 
nothing to wash avray the stains of moral defilement 
contracted by transgression. Who can bring a clean 
thing out of an unclean? Who can say, I have made 
my heart clean ? I am pure from my sin 9 Men may 
invest themselves in the unseemly attire of their own 
righteousness, but who thus arrayed would dare ap- 
proach the bar of infinite justice and purity ? There 
may be those who expect by the efficacy of their own 
unaided discipline, to reach the world of glory, but will 
any see the kingdom of heaven except they be born 
again f No ! the dead will not live again by the spon- 
taneous revival of inherent energies. Children of wrath 
cannot create themselves heirs of glory. Nor can they 
who are sold under sin, redeem themselves from the 
oppressive bondage. 

Equally impotent and unavailing must be the com- 
bined efforts of all finite power, to save man. The 
mysterious agency of ministering spirits extends not to 
the transformation of the human heart. They have 
no new creating efficacy to communicate. Not all the 

24* 



282 SALVATION BY GRACE. 

unsmiling myriads of heaven, hare merits to atone for 
the ^in of one soul. None of them can by any means 
redeem his brother, or give to God a ransom for him. 
Much as it augments their joy to witness one returning 
penitent, it is not theirs to give repentance. They are 
sent forth to minister for those who shall be heirs of sal- 
vation, but they cannot save. Privileged as they are, 
to dwell in the unclouded presence of the Eternal, they 
have no power to raise rebels to the grandeur of their 
pure and blessed elevation. So deeply buried in sin, 
and guilt, and ruin, is fallen man, and so omnipotent is 
the power which alone can raise him from this state, 
that the language of the poet may be applied to him in 
this sense with all the propriety and impressiveness of 
truth — 

" An angel's arm can't snatch him from this grave — 
Legions of angels can't confine him ther e." 

Now the same circumstance which renders human sal- 
vation too mighty a work to be achieved by human ef- 
forts ; and which sinks man too low to be reached by 
finite power, takes from him all merit, and instead of 
leaving him with any claim to the divine interposition, 
renders him most justly deserving the perpetual frowns 
of his displeasure. Had man never experienced the 
disastrous effects of the apostacy — had he never ceased 
to be entirely holy and happy, as then he would have 
had nothing which he had not first received, and as each 
successive moment of his being would have yielded him 
the full amount of happiness he had deserved, he could 
have had no claims upon God for a perpetuity of this 
blessed state. How much less can a fallen creature, 
who has never ceased to sin, deserve a restoration to a 
state of purity and bliss ! So that man is not only un- 
able to save himself, and beyond the reach of deliver- 
ance from any created hand, but he is wholly undeser- 
ving salvation from that Infinite One who alone is migh- 
ty to save. If he is ever saved, therefore, it must be 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 283 

purely by the unmerited and spontaneous goodness of 
the Almighty. 

It will appear obvious to all who give a moment's 
attention to the subject, that under the perfect govern- 
ment of Jehovah, every good which any of his intelli- 
gent creatures enjoy, must flow immediately from his 
unmerited favor. It is his grace which preserves sin- 
less beings in purity and blessednesss. It is his grace 
which keeps a world of impenitent sinners from the 
world of unmingled woe and suffering. It is his grace 
which showers down upon man with a seemingly indis- 
criminate profusion, the gifts of nature and of provi- 
dence. It is his grace which opens to millions of the 
human family the treasures of revealed truth — which 
sheds upon them the light of Christianity — which points 
out to them the way of salvation. But this is a com- 
mon bestowment. It has no peculiar, no discrimina- 
ting efficacy. As it respects man, it has no necessary 
and decisive influence beyond the present life. In a 
word, it is not that grace which saves the soul. Al- 
though in the divine economy it may stand connected 
with the dispensation of such grace, yet this connexion 
is by no means invariable. Millions are the subjects of 
the one, who never experience the other. It is not 
sufficient that grace has contrived and pointed out a 
way of safety for man — a disposition to walk in it must 
be given. It is not enough, that the word of salvation 
has been sent to him — his heart must be opened to re- 
ceive it. In vain the true light shines around him, 
while he loves darkness rather than light. So that if 
the counsels and works of him who is wonderful in 
counsel and excellent in working, could be defective or 
incomplete, the grace which originated the scheme of 
redemption before the world began, might have existed, 
without delivering from sin and guilt, and maturing for 
glory, one of our fallen race. The plan of salvation 
with the magnificent system of means, might have been 
— Jesus might have suffered — his gospel have been 



284 SALVATION BY GRACE. 

preached, and the common influences of the Holy Spirit 
have been imparted, and yet not a single individual of 
Adam's offspring have been saved. If this common 
provision be all that is requisite — if the grace that bring- 
eth salvation, being made known to men, be all that is 
necessary to secure their spiritual deliverance and future 
blessedness, why are not its effects equal and invaria- 
ble ? Why are not all alike benefited by the provision ? 
Some, under the ministration of the gospel, become 
evidently new creatures — are changed in their tempers, 
tastes, and sources of happiness ; while others, under 
substantially the same means, pass through life without 
evincing any beneficial alteration in their character. 
The same gospel becomes to some, the savour of life 
unto life, and to others, a savour of death unto death. 
To some, it is the power of God unto salvation, to oth- 
ers, it is only foolishness. Now shall these widely 
opposite results be attributed to the different effects of 
moral suasion, accompanied with the same measure of 
divine influence ? And are sinners created anew by 
moral suasion ? Have you the power to change their 
hearts — to give a holy bias to their minds? 

" Go bid the winter cease to chill the year — 
Replace yon wandering comet in its sphere," 

and then, but not till then, expect by the efficiency of 
your rhetoric, and the common energies of truth, to 
bring back apostate man to the love and service of his 
Maker ! No ! my hearers, means which are common 
to all, are saving to none. The diversity of effects ap- 
parent under essentially the same outward means, and 
the same common influences, evinces the operation of a 
superadded power. Unless we admit the efficiency of 
such a power, it is impossible satisfactorily to account 
for the phenomena, which have ever been exhibited 
where the gospel is preached. This fully accounts for 
the unequal success of the gospel in the world. This 
furnishes a reason why all are not alike benefited by 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 285 

the same external religious advantages. This explains 
the fact, that while many are called, few are chosen. 
Now it is this additional energy — this excellency of 'pow- 
er, which alone regenerates and saves the souls of men. 
It is this of which the apostle speaks in the text. By 
grace are ye saved. It is special, as distinguished 
from those blessings of nature and providence which 
come alike to all. It is special, as distinguished from 
those salutary influences from the word and Spirit of 
God, which are vouchsafed in some degree to all who 
dwell amidst the light of Christianity. It is special too, 
because it not only renews the soul, but makes it a 
partaker of all the unspeakable good implied in salva- 
tion. For whom he did foreknow, he also did predes- 
tinate to be conformed to the image of his Son. More- 
over, whom he did predestinate, them he also called ; 
and whom he called, them he also justified ; and whom 
he justified, them he also glorified! 

In addition to the evidence of facts which have ever 
been of frequent occurrence in the christian world, the 
doctrine of the text receives not a little confirmation 
from the universal testimony of religious experience. 
Such evidence may indeed have but little weight with 
those who reject the sentiment it goes to establish. But 
when it proceeds from the mouth of holy men of old, 
who spake as they were moved by the Holy Spirit, al- 
though it be the testimony of experimental religion, it 
surely is entitled to no small consideration. And as 
many, who admit of no peculiar spiritual agency in the 
work of human salvation, do nevertheless acknowledge 
the fact, that with what they deem a uniform divine 
influence, some become decidedly religious, while others 
do not, they should be slow to reject the testimony of 
such, as under what they suppose a common operation 
of the Spirit, give very decisive proof of being taught of 
God. If we look through the bible, we shall find that 
the godly of scripture history, in the disclosures which 
they make of their views and feelings on this subject, 



286 SALVATION BY GRACE. 

very clearly recognize the doctrine of the text. How 
often are their cries directed to the God of their salva- 
tion ? How often does their ardent prayer ascend — 
Save me, O God of my salvation — Save me, O Lord, 
for thy mercy's sake. What mean their fervent plaints 
under the hidings of God's countenance, and their im- 
portunate breathings after the joy of his salvation, if all 
their experience had not taught them that suchyoy was 
the production of God's special agency on the heart ? 
Why else their devout acknowledgments — God only is 
my salvation. Thou hast wrought all our works in us. 
It is God who maketh us to differ. We are his work- 
manship. By the grace of God, I am what I am. Not 
by works of righteousness which we have done, but ac- 
cording to his mercy he saved us. Is not this the lan- 
guage of those who had felt their own original weak- 
ness, ruin, and misery, and the operation of God's 
mighty power in delivering them from sin, and guilt, 
and woe? Does not such language -indicate something 
more than a bare knowledge of the great salvation pro- 
vided for fallen man by the sufferings and mediation of 
Jesus I Does it wot express an actual experience of 
its direct and mighty application to their own souls ? 
And does not the acknowledgment, that their existing 
moral state was the effect of grace, and that God had 
created the difference between them and the world, 
most evidently refer their altered condition and pros- 
pects, not to the ordinary effusions of the Spirit, not to 
a grace of congruity, not to a divine influence merely 
co-operating with the pious direction of their own hearts, 
but to an energy from above, more exclusive, more 
distinguishing, and more effective in its operation? 
And could we ascend to the present high abode of 
those, who have left on the page of inspiration the wit- 
ness of their own experience to the truth of this precious 
doctrine, we should hear them in their unceasing halle- 
lujahs, saying — Salvation to our God, who sitteth on 
the throne, and unto the Lamb ! Nor is the truth of 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 287 

the sentiment under consideration without its witnesses 
in the feelings and convictions of existing saints. The 
spirit of true piety is ever the same, as well in its nature 
and effects, as in its origin. There has ever been a 
coincidence in the views and feelings of those who 
possess it. David, and Isaiah, and Paul, and Brainard, 
and Martyn, felt alike in reference to spiritual objects. 
This shows that godliness is the result, invariably, of 
the same divine efficiency on essentially the same state 
of heart. The views of human salvation entertained by 
living examples of a spiritual piety, perfectly accord 
with those of Paul. Not so much because they have 
derived them from the apostle's writings, (for others 
equally familiar with them, have come to embrace op- 
posite sentiments,) but because they have drunk into 
his Spirit — have been taught of God. Yes, my breth- 
ren, the most spiritually-minded person with whom you 
are acquainted, who delights in all holy services, who 
is afraid of the least sin, and who entertains a godly 
jealousy of himself, actually regards himself as less 
than the least of all divine mercies — as a brand plucked 
from the burning, and as brought into a state of salva- 
tion solely by the distinguishing grace of Jehovah. 

But I have a still greater witness to the truth of this 
doctrine. God has declared it to be true. The vol- 
ume of his word is full of the interesting sentiment. It 
represents him as the alone author and finisher of man's 
salvation. He provided the ransom. God so loved the 
world, that he gave his only begotten Son to die for us. 
He hath chosen his people in Christ before the founda- 
tion of the world, that they should be holy, and without 
blame before him in love, having predestinated them un- 
to the adoption of children by Jesus Christ to himself 
according to the good pleasure of his will, to the praise 
of the glory of his grace. He saveth them and calleth 
them with an holy calling, not according to their works, 
but according to his own purpose and grace. So then 
at this present time also, there is a remnant according 



288 SALVATION BY GRACE. 

to the election of grace. And if by grace, it is no more 
of works. By grace are ye saved through faith, 

AND THAT NOT OF YOURSELVES, IT IS THE GIFT OF GOD. 

Man does not of himself exercise that faith through 
which he is saved. It is the gift of god. Jesus 
answered and said unto him, Blessed art thou, Simon 
Barjona, for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto 
thee, but my Father who is in heaven. As many as re- 
ceived him to them gave he power to become the sons of 
God — even to them that believe on his name — who are 
bom, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the 
will of man, but of God. All that the Father giveth me, 
shall come unto me. JYo man can come unto me, except 
it were given unto him of my Father. 

I have thus endeavored- to show from the character 
and condition of fallen man, from facts which have ever 
been of frequent occurrence in the world, from the ex- 
perience of all the truly religious from age to age, and 
lastly from the accumulated testimony of inspiration, 
that the salvation of man is effected by the special 
grace of Jevovah. 

A few remarks will close the discourse. 

I . If this doctrine be according to the sure testimony 
of scripture, good works, instead of being the cause, are 
a part of salvation. Men are not saved because they 
are holy, but they are holy because they are saved. A 
hope of salvation, therefore, through the merits of mor- 
al virtue, or without those good works which are the 
fruit of the Spirit, is alike unscriptural, and must prove 
alike ruinous. Salvation is not of works, and yet it is 
not without works. Those who expect heaven on the 
ground of any obedience, and those who expect it through 
grace alone, while they remain disobedient and the slaves 
of sin, must be equally disappointed, and sink together 
beneath the righteous displeasure of God. The saved 
are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto 
good works. Let us, my brethren, apply this test to 
our character. If we are in a state of salvation, we have 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 289 

no confidence in the flesh, and no reliance on works. 
If we are in this state, we nevertheless have a faith in 
the appointed sacrifice for sin, which works by love, 
purifies the heart, and overcomes the world. Let us 
not then be deceived. God is not mocked. For what- 
soever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. For he 
that soweth to his flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption, 
but he that soweth to the spirit, shall of the spirit, reap 
life everlasting. 

2. A consideration of the doctrine of the text is fitted 
to excite the liveliest gratitude of redeemed sinners. 
They know that they have not wrought their own de- 
liverance from the power, and guilt, and condemnation of 
sin. They know, that it is not their own efforts which 
have made them to differ from such as have no hope, 
and are without God in the world. They know that their 
acceptance with God, is not owing to any inherent good- 
ness or righteousness in themselves. They know, that 
it is the distinguishing grace of God alone, which has 
given them any purity of heart, any ground of hope 
and spiritual consolation. They know too, that it is by 
the same means only that any of those now dead in 
sin, can be saved. And with this deep knowledge of 
the heart — this sober persuasion, can they ever cease to 
render thankful praises to that holy one, who has pur- 
posed, and is executing this scheme of boundless grace 
and mercy? 

"Oh! if this be truth, 
No matter what is not — all — all is safe — 
The living light of hope creation cheers — 
This is enough for creatures of the dust, 
To know of their great Maker, of his will, 
And providence in all their mysteries." 

3. I cannot forbear to remark in conclusion, that it 
may be seen from what has been said, why the impeni- 
tent either reject, or pervert this doctrine. It is a doc- 
trine which preeminently glorifies God, and abases man. 
The only occasion on which Immanuel in the days of 

25 



290 SALVATION BY GRACE. 

his flesh, is said to have rejoiced, was in the contem- 
plation of this doctrine. In that hour Jesus rejoiced in 
spirit and said, I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heav- 
en and earth, that thou hast hid these things from the 
wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes — 
even so Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight. 
It is a doctrine which all the ransomed of the Lord in 
heaven and on earth, delight to contemplate. It is a 
sentiment which will swell their everlasting hallelujahs. 
Now if sinners loved God, if they knew their own hearts, 
if they were humble, they too would rejoice in the doc- 
trine, which ascribes all the glory of man's salvation to 
the grace of Jehovah. So that it is opposition of heart 
to him — it is ignorance of themselves — it is a proud and 
self-important spirit, which leads them to disbelieve or 
abuse it. Yes, it is the very state of the sinner's heart 
which makes his salvation depend on the truth of this 
doctrine, that renders him opposed to it. But what 
shall I say to such? I can say that this subject has not 
been introduced at this time, needlessly to embarrass 
and disturb you, but to lead you to realize your real 
condition. I can say, that God and his gracious meth- 
od of saving sinners, will remain the same, however 
averse you may feel to them. I can say that if you 
continue through life to feel this aversion, you will most 
certainly fail of the joys of salvation. I can say, that 
because your salvation depends on the grace of the Al- 
mighty, and not on yourselves, it is possible that you 
may be saved. This is your only ground of hope. 
Will you despise it ? Will you abuse it ? Will you take 
refuge in the miserable plea for the neglect of your 
souls, that if this doctrine be true, no conduct of yours 
will alter your condition ? No one ever thought thus, 
or urged this plea, who really believed his salvation de- 
pended on the special mercy of God. Oh ! it is a de- 
lusion of the great enemy of souls. It is a wretched 
refuge of lies. Will you suffer yourselves to be eter- 
nally ruined by his wiles ? You are, indeed, lost sinners> 



SALVATION BY GRACE. 291 

But not so lost, that sovereign grace cannot reach, and 
save you. Not so lost as to forbid hope, if you are only 
willing to be saved on the humbling terms of the gos- 
pel. Here is something for you to hang a hope upon. 
Here is all that encourages me to come and preach to 
you this gospel of salvation. Did I not believe this 
precious doctrine, I should as soon expect that the slum- 
bering relics of the dead in yonder grave yard, would 
rise into life again at my voice, as that one of you would 
be saved from eternal death by my ministration of the 
gospel. This is my hope. My dear friends, do make 
it yours. Come, lost, ruined, helpless, to the Almighty 
Saviour. Come, resolved that you will fix all your 
hope of life and glory eternal on the free and distinguish- 
ing mercy of God in Christ. Come, with hearts hum- 
bled, broken, bleeding, and you shall be saved, 



SERMON XXIII. 



A Revival of Religion God's wonderful Work. 



PSALM LXXV. 1. 

UNTO THEE, GOD, DO WE GIVE THANKS UNTO THEE DO WE 

GIVE THANKS ; FOR THAT THY NAME IS NEAR, THY WON- 
DROUS WORKS DECLARE. 



The distinction which men gain in the intellectual 
world, is chiefly estimated by the extent and minute- 
ness of their acquaintance with the laws and operations 
of the physical universe. They who have large views 
here are universally esteemed great. The field which 
lies open to such investigation is of unlimited extent, 
and they who push their inquiries the farthest, are 
found to ascend the highest in the scale of intellectual 
elevation. In this way the diversified mass of material 
things becomes subsidiary to the enlargement of the 
mental capabilities of our race. But there are other 
views of these works, and other works than these, which 
the human mind sometimes contemplates with a deeper 
interest and a larger benefit. They are views which 
recognize the wise and benevolent efficiency of the 
Creator. They are works which are wrought by him 
on the moral faculties of these very minds that are often 
so expanded and elevated by searching into the won- 
ders of his visible works. And this moral operation 
of God on the minds of men, is greatly promoted by a 



A REVIVAL OF RELIGION, &C. 293 

constant regard to his direct agency, in working all things 
after the counsel of his own will, alike in the natural, 
intellectual, and moral world. And as in the former 
case, they gain the highest intellectual elevation, who 
extend their investigations farthest into the nature and 
properties of visible things ; so in the latter, they make 
the farthest advances in moral purity, who recognize 
most constantly and fully the divine presence and agen- 
cy in all places of his dominion. This must be evident 
to every one from the slightest reference to the history 
of spiritual piety. The truly religious of scripture his- 
tory were remarkable for a quick perception of Jeho- 
vah's hand in all the varied phenomena that met their 
view. The text is an e-xample of this. It is the Psalm- 
ist's grateful acknowledgment of some signal divine 
interposition in effecting his personal deliverance from 
danger. He evidently had such vivid impressions of 
the powerful presence of God, as could have scarcely 
been gained but by habits of devoutly tracing his agen- 
cy not only abroad in the field of nature, but in the more 
special acts of his moral government. And to these 
habits and associations of his mind, may be referred, 
and by these, may be measured his unusual attainments 
in spiritual knowledge and purity. From these remarks 
it may be seen, that our highest duty, interest, and 
wisdom, require us to cultivate similar habits. And we 
have facilities which he had not. That the name of 
jehovah is near to us, is often evinced, not only by 
occurrences in nature and providence, but by the won- 
drous works of purifying and saving souls, that are 
exposed to perish forever in pollution and guilt. These 
works of the Lord are great, sought out of all them 
that have pleasure therein. And that we may all ex- 
perience this pleasure, and contemplate with interest 
and profit these special operations of almighty Grace, I 
would invite your attention to a few brief remarks, intro- 
duced to illustrate the three following observations : viz. 



25^ 



294 A REVIVAL OF RELIGION 

A revival of religion indicates the special presence of 
God — It is a wonderful work — and, It calls for devout 
gratitude. 

I. A revival of religion indicates the special pres- 
ence of God. He whom we call the God of the whole 
earth, dwells in everyplace. His name or perfections 
is near, wherever we make our abode. Neither crea- 
ted being, nor thought can fly where Jehovah is not. 
He fills with his infinite perfections the measureless 
realms of space. But there are places favored with 
his more special presence. The bright world of celes- 
tial purity and bliss, is such a place. There his name is 
emphatically and eternally near. Other worlds may share 
his peculiar presence more largely than ours, which has 
so deeply revolted. Yet portions even of this world, are 
from time to time permitted to experience this benig- 
nant visitation in a preeminent degree. You may see 
something of that speciality of the divine presence by 
glancing your eyes over some of those blooming and 
verdant spots of earth's surface, which at this delightful 
season, have become almost instantly transformed into 
a rich and varied expanse of vegetable luxuriance and 
beauty. They who have the moral habit of the Psalm- 
ist — they who are spiritual in the character of their as- 
sociations, cannot fail amidst such a scene to behold 
the direct efficacy of God, calling forth this profusion 
of vegetable life, and giving to portions of our wintry 
and desolate clime, the fragrance, fertility, and loveli- 
ness of Paradise. You may see something of the pecu- 
liar presence of God, if you will follow some swift ship 
through the perils of the deep. How often amidst 
blackness, and darkness, and tempest, when all hope 
that they shall be saved is taken away from the agonized 
mariners, is the darkness dispersed, the winds hushed r 
and the billows stilled, as suddenly as if they had heard 
the words of the Omnipotent — Peace, be still. 

But the indications of God's presence in a revival of 
religion are still more marked and unequivocal. It is 



WORK. 295 

an operation which cannot be traced to any other ade- 
quate cause. It is a dispensation in no way connected 
with any of what are called the known laws of the phys- 
ical or intellectual creation. Although it is usually so 
connected with means and circumstances, as to take 
from it every thing of a miraculous character, it is so 
entirely apart from the common method of Jehovah's 
operations, as necessarily to involve his immediate agen- 
cy and peculiar presence. His other works tell that 
his his name is near. And must not this, which sur- 
passes all others in present greatness and ultimate re- 
sults ? When an expanse of country around us, in the 
period of a few short weeks, pours forth a world of fra- 
grance, bloom and beauty, every one who does not say 
in his heart, there is no God, must perceive that, what- 
ever second causes may exist, God is the efficient cause. 
But a revival of religion is a moral spring. It repairs 
the desolations of a long spiritual winter. It comes 
and clothes within a little period, a portion of earth's 
population, not in an attire fading and perishing like 
that which covers the hills and valleys, but with gar- 
ments of salvation and robes of righteousness, that will 
increase in freshness and beauty forever. When too, 
ocean's tempests and waves are stilled, and struggling 
despairing mariners are suddenly snatched from the 
yawning flood, the most stupid recognize the interven- 
tion of Jehovah's hand. But a revival of religion res- 
cues perishing sinners from the grave of hell, and the 
billows of eternal wrath. And does not such a work 
proclaim the goodness of God to be especially near? 

In the first revival of religion under the ministration 
of the gospel, when suddenly there came a sound from 
heaven, as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled the 
house where the disciples were sitting, there was doubt- 
less something of the miraculous, which is not to be 
expected to attend revivals now. Let it not, however, 
be inferred, therefore, that the subjects of revivals are 
not as fully conscious of the special presence of God, 



296 A REVIVAL OF RELIGION 

as they would be, were they to hear the sound, and 
to feel the powerful pressure of the breathing wind. 
Churches mercifully visited with a season of refreshing, 
when with one accord in one place, do sometimes feel 
that God is with them by his Holy Spirit, not indeed 
giving them utterance with other tongues, but making 
intercession for them with groanings that cannot be 
uttered. Nor is it the creation of fancy, that they have 
so deep and solemn a sense of the realities of eternity 
and heaven, that they are conscious of something like 
the awful pressure of Jehovah's presence. They feel 
his Spirit breathing an awe, and peace, and joy through 
the soul. They behold him not, and yet they know 
he is in the place, as he is not elsewhere. Why else 
that ineffable mingling and united pouring out of soul 
in prayer, if God is not near, and by the fire of his 
Spirit melting their hearts into one ? 

The experience of all who at these seasons become 
new creatures, goes to establish the same position. 
They had before believed on the divine Omnipotence, 
but now \hef feel it. Before they considered them- 
selves sinners against God, but now they see that God 
is terribly near to them. Formerly they viewed their 
life depending on God ; now they see his hand, while it 
strips them of every disguise and shows them to them- 
selves, holds them up from perdition. And at length, 
when, after long struggling in vain to recommend them- 
selves to him, and to form a righteousness acceptable 
in his sight, they find themselves resting on the Sa- 
viour, and hoping in his righteousness alone, they see 
most clearly that God has wrought all their works in 
them. So vivid oftentimes, are their impressions of 
the ineffable nearness of the great God, that they con- 
stantly feel emotions expressed by the patriarch — Sure- 
ly the Lord is in this place, and I knew it not. How 
dreadful is this place ! That his name is near, his 

WONDROUS WORKS DECLARE. 



god's wonderful work. 297 

II. A revival of religion is a wonderful work. In 
the song of Moses and the Lamb, sung by the redeem- 
ed in glory, all the works of the Most High are pro- 
nounced wonderful. Great and marvellous are thy 
works, Lord, God Almighty — -just and true are thy 
ways, thou King of Saints. A revival is a work of 
wonders, as a partial accomplishment of the divine 
plan of redemption and salvation. Viewed in this con- 
nexion, it will doubtless be among those occurrences 
on earth, which the redeemed will contemplate with 
never ending admiration and praise. It is wonderful 
too, as indicating the unparalleled condescension of the 
great God our Saviour. Created minds could never 
have conceived such an amazing act of humiliation in 
the Godhead. Every revival is closely connected with 
the astonishing fact, that he who in the beginning was 
with God, and was God, was made flesh and dwelt 
among men. Every revival so directly and necessarily 
results from that fact, that no serious mind can witness 
such a dispensation, and not have the thoughts in- 
stinctively and gratefully recurring to ImmanueFs God- 
head, and his cross. Had he not humbled himself and 
become obedient unto death, there is no reason to sup- 
pose that any portion of our ruined race, would ever 
have been visited by a season of refreshing from the 
presence of the Lord. Moral ruin must have been the 
portion of man throughout earth and time ; and spiritu- 
al death through eternity. Revivals are wonderful, 

moreover, as the alone adequate means of rendering 
mankind happy in time, and of staying that deep, broad 
and mighty flood of sin, and guilt, and death, which 
otherwise must hurry them into the perdition of eterni- 
ty. Nor is a revival scarcely less a wonderful work, 
viewed in its influence upon the personal condition, 
character, and prospects of individuals. Look at the 
change a revival effects in the condition of a single indi- 
vidual. He was before, an alien from the common- 
wealth of Israel, and a stranger from the, covenants of 



298 A REVIVAL OF RELIGION 

promise — without God, and without hope in the world. 
He is now a fellow citizen of the saints, and of the 
household of God. He was before a willing slave of 
sin. He is now a freeman of the Lord, emancipated 
from his former bondage, and brought into the glorious 
liberty of the children of God. He was before a stran- 
ger to real peace, and like the troubled sea, when it 
cannot rest. He now has the peace of God which pass- 
eth knowledge. Look too, at the alteration wrought in 
bis views, and tastes, and pursuits. A new world has 
opened upon him. He has been brought out of dark- 
ness into God's marvellous light. Once he was blind, 
but he now sees. Once he regarded the book of books 
as obscure, unmeaning, and uninteresting. Now it seems 
as clear as day, full of truths the most deeply momentous, 
and more to be desired than much fine gold. Though 
heretofore extremely dull and insipid, he now hangs up- 
on its pages with intense interest, and finds everywhere 
something adapted to his newly discovered wants, and 
altered taste. The Sabbath, so long a weariness, has be- 
come a delight. Spiritual christians no longer seem 
gloomy, precise, and overmuch righteous, but the cheer- 
ful, consistent, and heaven-directed pilgrims, in whom 
he delights, and with whom he would take his own por- 
tion in time and for ever. And he, whom christians 
call their Lord and Master, long despised and rejected 
as a root out of a dry ground, is now embraced by him 
with a self-renouncing and self-loathing confidence in 
his infinite sufficiency, and with ardent attachment to 
his person and kingdom. But lately he was following 
in the course of the world ; and worldly pleasure, inter- 
est, or reputation constituted the loftiest aim of his 
heart. These are now renounced and counted loss for 
Christ. He can no longer relish them as his chief 
good, or pursue them as his great end. 

Again. Look at the change in his prospects. He 
previously had fervent expectations of coming good, 
along the period of his earthly existence ; and perhaps 



god's wonderful work. 299 

some vague anticipation of endless bliss. But they were 
vain and shadowy creations of fancy prompted by strong 
desire. They yielded nothing like the confidence and 
consolation of a sober certainty. Not such his new 
hopes. They are secured to him by the promise and 
oath of him who cannot fail — that by two immutable 
things in which it was impossible for God to lie, we 
might have strong consolation, who have fled for ref- 
uge to lay hold of the hope set before us — which hope 
we have as an anchor of the soul, sure and steadfast, 
and which enter eth into that within the veil — whither 
the forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus. Until he 
shared the blessedness of a revival, the thoughts of death, 
judgment, and eternal retribution, were continually dis- 
turbing his spurious peace, and withering his joys. Since 
that crisis in his destiny, these are the very thoughts 
which he delights to cherish. For though they are 
deeply solemn, they bring no terrors to his mind. He 
can look to death as the end of sin and woe — to judg- 
ment as the consummation of his felicity — and to eterni- 
ty as the home of his sinless and glorified being. His 
thoughts have always instinctively travelled onward 
among eternal scenes ; now they bring from these bound- 
less excursions new elements of happiness to his new- 
created soul. Viewed, then, in reference only to the 
change which a revival of religion effects in the condi- 
i tion, the views, the tastes, the pursuits, and prospects 
i of individuals, is it not a work of wonders ? Say ye, 
( who best can tell, you who have evidence that a revival 
has done all this for you, is it not a work great and 
marvellous indeed ? 

Another remarkable feature in a revival of religion, 
is the discriminating character of the work. All who 
i come under the influence of the common means of 
grace, where a revival is experienced, are not the sub- 
jects of the revival. While all are called, and many 
are moved, comparatively few are renewed. Such, as 
to human view, are the most likely in these seasons of 



300 A REVIVAL OF RELIGION 

special revival to become new creatures., are seen to 
stand out against the mighty power of moral influence 
which is then at work. They, who have always been 
favored with the faithful ministration of the gospel, re- 
main shielded against its power ; while not a few who 
have been educated in error, or ignorance of the truth, 
so receive the truth as to be saved. Of the members 
of the same family, living under the same moral sway 
and discipline, one is often taken and another left. In 
one, the husband feels the quickening power that brings 
dead sinners home to the Lord, leaving the wife still in 
the slumbers of spiritual death. In another, the wife is 
melted into penitence, while her companion hardens 
himseli against God. Here, children of unbelieving 
parents are converted. There, the offspring who have 
been baptized into the name of the great God, and with 
the tears and prayers of parental solicitude, are thought- 
less and cheerful on the brink of ruin. On the one 
hand, you may see a brother rejoicing in hope, but 
agonizing for his unrenewed brothers and sisters. On 
the other, a sister touched by the compassion of Jesus, 
would seek by her entreaties and her tears, to dissolve 
the stony heart of a beloved brother. Surely this is the 
Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes. And in 
the view of none is it more so, than in theirs, who are 
reached by this discriminating mercy of God. Every 
such individual is ready to exclaim in humble and grate- 
ful admiration of the distinguishing love and compassion 
of the Saviour, — 

" Why was I made to hear thy voice, 

And enter while there's room — 
When thousands make a wretched choice, 

And rather starve than come ?" 

III. A revival of religion is an occurrence which calls 
for devout gratitude. Any act of God evincing his pe- 
culiar goodness to man, demands our grateful recogni- 
tion. The reasonableness of such recognition is very 



god's wonderful work. 301 

generally seen. Thanks are offered for signal preser- 
vation from sickness and danger. Whole communities 
are often called upon to ascribe thanksgiving to the 
Most High for his special interposition in giving victory 
over our enemies, and in bestowing fruitful seasons. 
And it is doubtless becoming dependant creatures to 
give thanks to God always. Nor is it less apparent, 
that our grateful emotions should be deep, fervent, and 
continued in proportion to the excellent greatness of the 
good bestowed. Now a season of refreshing from the 
presence of God, evinces a special divine interposition, 
which brings with it benefits of immeasurable importance 
and value. Indeed, these benefits cannot be compared 
with any, or all the temporal gifs the mind can conceive 
of as valuable in themselves, and in their connexion with 
other desirable circumstances. It is emphatically an 
unspeakable bestowment. Language cannot express, 
created minds cannot fully conceive its worth. No 
christian can view the beautiful robe which the present 
season has thrown over the aspect of nature around us, 
and not feel emotions of gratitude to him who has pro- 
duced the delightful change. But as I have before ob- 
served, a revival of religion is a moral spring. Through 
the quickening power of the Holy Spirit, which comes 
down like rain upon the mown grass, and as showers 
that water the earth, a portion of earth's population be- 
comes clothed with amoral loveliness, "such as earth oth- 
erwise saw never — such as heaven looks down to see." 
" Trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord," bud, 
and bloom, and bear fruit unto life eternal. Many im- 
mortal minds long buried in sin and sense — long bear- 
ing the image of earth and its pollutions, emerge from 
their debasement, put on a heavenly image, and begin a 
career of eternal purity and bliss. In a word, a revival 
of religion is the resemblance (the nearest we shall ever 
behold in the flesh) of heaven on earth. And Oh ! 
when these little blooming spots that smile along the 
dreary wastes of earth, " few and far between," shall 

26 



302 A REVIVAL OF RELIGION 

be enlarged, and multiplied, and mingled into one uni- 
versal revival over the whole earth, then will be accom- 
plished in some important sense the prediction, that 
there shall be a new heaven and a new earth, wherein 
dwelleth righteousness. And who that is not dead at 
heart, will not be thankful when permitted to witness the 
beginning of this glorious consummation ? We, my chris- 
tian friends, are allowed to behold enough to awaken in 
our souls the feelings of the Psalmist — unto thee, o 

GOD, DO WE GIVE THANKS UNTO THEE DO WE GIVE 

THANKS FOR THAT THY NAME IS NEAR THY WONDR- 
OUS works declare. I trust that some of us are not 
thankless, amidst the profusion of spiritual good descend- 
ing upon us. God has wrought wonders among us, and 
our eyes must be holden indeed^ if we do not see him to 
be near. Humiliation, gratitude, and praise become 
us. If we feel nothing of these now — when, O when 
shall we ? If we rejoice not and give thanks when the 
empire of Christ is extended, can we be his subjects ; 
can we be prepared for their society and employment, 
who rejoice over one sinner that repenteth. 

But who are these that fly as a cloud, and as doves to 
their windows ? Ye who feel the glow of your first 
love — you to whom redeeming mercy has but lately 
come with present peace, and promises of crowns and 
mansions imperishable in the skies — Oh, you should 
swell the loudest notes of praise to him who has prepar- 
ed these crowns and mansions for you. You should 
now begin to sing forever in angelic strains to him whose 
immortality is yours, in the blest union of eternal love. " 

And who will not give thanks to God for the excel- 
lent greatness of his mercy in the revival we behold ? 
Is there one of you, my dear hearers, who will not ? 
You shall then be pitied. For you I would pray. For 
you cannot join the song of Moses and the Lamb. In 
your present state, though in the midst of much that 
constitutes heaven, you cannot enter that world of purity 
and praise. But with our pity and our prayers, we will 



god's wonderful work. 303 

mingle our exhortations and our entreaties, Seek ye 
the Lord, while he may be found — call upon him, while 
he is near. It is a day of his great mercy. It is emi- 
nently a day of salvation. Never were my impenitent 
hearers brought into circumstances so deeply interest- 
ing, encouraging and solemn. The Most High God is 
executing his wonderful works of mercy on your 
right and on your left. Can you abide in unconcern ? 
Can you remain unmoved ? Can you continue impeni- 
tent ? It is thy day, perishing sinner. O, that you might 
know — even you, the things which belong to your peace, 
before they are hid from your eyes. While others are 
pressing into the kingdom of heaven, will you force 
your way down to the empire of darkness and despair ? 
While others are melted into penitence beneath the 
breathing influence of the Holy Spirit, will you harden 
your hearts into more impenetrable adamant ? This is 
thy day, careless sinner. It is the crisis of thy destiny. 
The presence of God will soon bring you to submit to 
the Saviour, or will leave you to irreclaimable obdura- 
cy. You will speedily become God's workmanship, cre- 
ated in Christ Jesus unto good works — or vessels of 
wrath fitted to destruction. You cannot long abide as 
you are amidst such circumstances. You must pass 
the crisis one way or the other. You must soon delib- 
erately choose heaven to be your portion, be the conse- 
quences in this world what they may— or you must 
make it evermore certain that yours cannot be the in- 
heritance of the saints. O, linger no longer on so peril- 
ous ground. Delay no longer when such dangers threat- 
en. You may escape to heaven. Will you choose 
death ? You may begin to day those acts of thanksgiv- 
ing and praise to God for his works of grace, which 
will occupy perfected spirits forever. Will you choose 
rather to remain liable to spend your eternity amidst 
the woes and blasphemies of hell ? But whatever you 
do, there are those here who cannot but say — unto 

THEE GOD, DO WE GIVE THANKS, 






SERMON XXIV 



Responsibilities of the Christian Ministry. 
2 CORINTHIANS II. 16. 

WHO IS SUFFICIENT FOR THESE THINGS ? 

The Christian Ministry, viewed in its immediate, 
separate from its more remote and important conse- 
quences, exerts an influence upon society, at once the 
most commanding and salutary. By a full and accu- 
rate exhibition of divine truth, it discloses the only ap- 
propriate foundation of all sound morality, and furnishes 
those sanctions, by which alone its practice can be suc- 
cessfully enforced. It developes those relations and 
urges those duties, which are essential to the well being 
of communities — relations which otherwise would not 
be perceived — duties which otherwise would not be 
enjoined. The justness of this remark is abundantly 
illustrated by reference to facts. Within the circle of 
daily observation, may be discovered proof of the hap- 
py influence of a preached gospel in regulating the 
manners, improving the morals, and promoting the sec- 
ular interests of the community. But it has a higher 
object than merely the reformation of morals, and the 
promotion of the decencies and felicities of the present 
life. Its scope and design partake of that character- 
istic grandeur, which invites to all the plans of him who 
is wonderful in counsel and excellent in working. Its 



RESPONSIBILITIES OF, &C 305 

aims are the perfection of that stupendous dispensation 
of grace for whose accomplishment the Saviour suffer- 
ed 1 and died, and which, for sixty centuries, has been 
the object of Jehovah's providential care. It looks be- 
yond the fleeting visions of time, and concerns the 
unchanging realities of eternity. However directly and 
immediately the present, welfare and concerns of men, 
the interests and conduct of states and empires, may be 
affected by the christian ministry, its grand and ultimate 
purposes respect an object of a nature inconceivably 
more interesting and important. Its business is with 
the undying soul. It seeks its -recovery from those in- 
herent pollutions, which would ensure its eternal sepa- 
ration from the only source of life and good. This is 
the sphere for its efforts. Here it labors to form a spir- 
itual dominion — to introduce a saving principle — to 
give vitality to moral death — to " pour celestial day 
upon eyes oppressed with night" — to raise the desires 
from earth to heaven — to turn the affections from the 
power of satan, to God. Such briefly, is the tendency 
and design of the christian ministry. And who that is 
invested with the office, and consecrated to its services, 
does not tremble ? Who can contemplate the dignity of 
man's original elevation and the depth of his present 
debasement, the infinite distance between sin and holi- 
ness, the terrors of hell and the joys of heaven, without 
deep solicitude and alarming apprehensions, when he 
considers himself as the constituted instrument of bring- 
ing back an apostate creature into an allegiance to his 
Creator, and of restoring the sinner to the resemblance 
and favor of God ? Who can view the glorious display 
of divine perfections exhibited in the wondrous scheme 
of redemption, and think what he himself is, who has 
undertaken to be a minister of reconciliation, and the 
ambassador of Christ, and not be led to ask with the 
deepest abasement — who is sufficient for these 
things ? In view of considerations so affecting, who 
does not in some degree, realize the situation, and catch 

26* 



306 RESPONSIBILITIES OF 

the spirit of the devout Isaiah, when he beheld Jehovah 
sitting on a throne, high and lifted up, and his train 
filling the temple, and with him exclaim in the language 
of unaffected humiliation — Woe is me, for I am undone, 
because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the 
midst of a people of unclean lips°l Under a sense of 
unworthiness and insufficiency so overwhelming, what 
minister of the gospel does not pray that some seraph 
might, as it were, be commissioned to touch his lips 
with a living coal from off the altar of God ? 

Having the last week passed the anniversary of my 
settlement in the ministry among you, I deem it not 
unsuitable, while standing on a point where the past and 
the future gather with so much interest into one view, 
to ask you to pause with me, and for a little season, to 
endeavor to represent to our minds as far as practica- 
ble, according to its true dimensions, the greatness of 
the design proposed by the gospel ministry. It may 
be less necessary for you than for myself, but it cannot 
be entirely unseasonable or inappropriate for you to 
contemplate with me some of the duties, the discour- 
agements, and the supports of the christian minister in 
his pastoral relations. 

I. A concise view will be taken of the most promi- 
nent duties of the ministry. To notice even cursorily 
the various duties connected with this holy occupation, 
would exceed the customary limits of a discourse. 
Those only can be mentioned, which have an intimate 
relation, and are peculiarly subsidiary to the great busi- 
ness of the ministry — the public preaching— the plain 
exhibition of divine truth. In order then, successfully 
to preach to others, a minister of the gospel must cul- 
tivate a deep and thorough acquaintance with himself. 
Without this he may speak with the tongue of angels, 
but will not speak to the hearts of his hearers. Desti- 
tute of this, he may understand all .mysteries and knowl- 
edge, but he will not understand the avenues to con- 
viction. He may have a faith to remove mountains, 



THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 307 

but will not move the hearts of sinners. He may give 
all his goods to feed the poor, and his own body to be 
burned, but will leave the hungry soul to famish, and 
the impenitent to endure the fire thatis never quenched. 
Unless he has been made to feel the desperate malady 
which sin has introduced into his own, and the souls of 
his hearers — unless from his experience of its efficacy, 
he is able to testify the sufficiency of the remedy pro- 
posed in the gospel, and its suitableness to their case, 
however extensive and varied may be his attainments, 
he must nevertheless be a physician of no value. How 
shall he, who is slumbering in false security, and uncon- 
scious of the number and extent of his own departures 
from the narrow path that leads to heaven, awaken the 
stupid and thoughtless to a perception of their danger, 
or reclaim the backslider from his fearful wanderings ? 
How shall he bind up the broken hearted, and comfort 
those that mourn, who has never felt the guilt and bur- 
den of sin, or been grieved at his own disunion with 
the only source of perfection and blessedness ? No one 
can faithfully execute the dread commission of the gos- 
pel ministry, who does not habitually and deeply study 
the plague of his own heart — its native alienation 
from God — its strong disinclination to converse with 
spiritual objects — its grovelling attachment to objects 
of sense, and its unfaithfulness to salutary religious im- 
pressions. Without such a communion with himself, 
and a spirit of prayer for divine assistance, no one can 
be qualified to address the awakening denunciations of 
God's holy law, to those who are slumbering on the 
brink of endless ruin ; or to apply the promises of the 
gospel to those who have awaked to righteousness 
and put on the armor of light. Self -acquaintance 
then, leading to the cultivation of a deep, vital piety, 
is the grand secret of ministerial usefulness ; and its 
attainment becomes an indispensable duty in him who 
ministers in holy things. 



308 RESPONSIBILITIES OF 

2. It is the duty of the christian minister to be a man 
of studious habits — to be continually extending his ac- 
quaintance with those branches of knowledge, that have 
a direct or collateral bearing upon the sacred functions 
to which he is devoted. This duty clearly results from 
the explicit injunctions of Scripture. The minister of 
the gospel is directed to meditate on all things connect- 
ed with his office — to give himself wholly to them, that 
his profiting may be manifest to all ! He must be apt 
to teach, and therefore, diligent to learn. He must not 
be ^novice, and therefore must be extensively and famil- 
iarly acquainted with all the great subjects connected 
with his profession. He must acquire comprehensive 
views of the great system of divine truth ; the bible, 
therefore, must be his constant guide and instructer. 
He is a consecrated almoner of a spiritual dispensation; 
from the Holy Scriptures, therefore, as an exhaustless 
treasury, he must bring forth things new and old. The 
word of God, then, must be the prime object of his 
studious attention. To understand its sacred contents, 
he must not only study it intensely, but he greatly needs, 
and must carefully use, every possible help. As sub- 
servient to this end, it is requisite that he be acquainted 
with the history of man, and especially of the church — 
be familiar with the writings of pious, wise, and learned 
expositors of the sacred volume — that he cultivate a 
correct literary taste, and keep pace with the progress 
of literature and science. And in short, that he pos- 
sess all that knowledge, which by enlarging and invigo- 
rating his mind, will tend to render him as a minister, 
more able and judicious ; and his ministrations more 
interesting, instructive and beneficial to his hearers. 
To compass so much — to make attainments so varied 
and extensive, and to bring them all to the work of the 
ministry for the edifying of the body of Christ, requires 
integrity of heart united with an active, vigorous mind, 
intensely devoted to moral and intellectual improve- 
ment. Without efforts of this kind, unless the moral 



THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 309 

and intellectual faculties are strenuously exerted in the 
advancement of genuine Christianity, no religious teach- 
er can be supposed to study to show himself approved 
of God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed. 
He may, indeed, bring his offerings to the Lord, but it 
will be of that which cost him nothing. He may think 
to light up the lamps of the sanctuary, but he will do it 
with unbeaten oil. A minister of the gospel cannot 
be in any good degree useful, cannot make his profit- 
ing appear to all — cannot make full proof of his min- 
istry, unless he gives himself with habitual diligence, 
to study. It is in his study, he must purchase accepta- 
ble offerings for the Lord — there he must prepare the 
beaten oil for the sanctuary, and there he must burnish 
his armor to fight in the cause of truth. It is such a 
minister, and may I not add, only such, who 

" armed himself in panoply complete 

Of heavenly temper, furnishes with arms, 
Bright as his own, and trains by every rule 
Of holy discipline, to glorious war, 
The sacramental host of God's elect." 

3. It is the duty of the christian minister to preach 
the gospel, plainly, solemnly, and affectionately. This 
I consider the grand business, the leading duty of every 
one who is consecrated to the pastoral office. Not in- 
deed, to the exclusion of other minor, though by no 
means unimportant avocations. He is required to visit 
the people of his charge, especially in sickness and ad- 
versity, as far as may be compatible with more pressing 
engagements. So far also, as higher obligations may 
permit, he is to unite with those who meet for prayer 
and religious improvement, at seasons not divinely de- 
voted to these services. But no ordinary, no minor 
engagements should ever be suffered to interrupt a 
preparation for the appropriate duties of the Sabbath. 
This is the day divinely appointed, and sanctified for 
religious instruction and edification. This is the place 
dedicated to the worship of Jehovah, and to the solem- 



310 RESPONSIBILITIES OF 

nities of religion. On the christian Sabbath in the 
house of God, a large part of every minister's charge 
is assembled to hear the words by which their souls 
may be saved ; and there the minister of Christ is sa- 
credly obliged to meet them. There, like his divine 
Master, standing before an assembly of immortals, he 
is awfully obligated, plainly, solemnly, and affectionately 
to preach to them the everlasting gospel. He is requir- 
ed to exhibit the great truths of religion plainly. He is 
to watch for souls — souls that may be lost — souls that 
are polluted with sin, and must be lost, unless sanctified 
through the instrumentality of divine truth. These 
souls are committed to his care. In their eternal well- 
being he has a deep interest. If they are lost, it may 
be through his unfaithfulness, and he may sink with 
them into an eternal fellowship of suffering ! If they 
are saved through his ministry, he may ascend and 
mingle with them in the communion of saints in glory. 
In view of these overwhelming considerations, the 
ambassador of Christ cannot withold an explicit state- 
ment of the great truths of revelation, and a faith- 
ful application of them to the understanding and con- 
science of his hearers. He must exhibit before them 
their actual moral state by nature, their entire destitu- 
tion of holiness, their total alienation from God, and 
fearful exposure to the penalty of his violated law. He 
must labor to produce in their minds, a deep and abid- 
ing conviction of the guilt and peril of such a state. He 
is to endeavor to impress them with a sense of their own 
insufficiency to make the least satisfaction for past 
sinfulness, to cleanse themselves from inherent pol- 
lution, or to free themselves from the future dominion 
of their own vitiated moral nature. He is to urge 
upon them the necessity of the great vicarious sat- 
isfaction for the sin of the world, made by the suf- 
ferings and death of the Son of God, to secure the 
salvation of any of tire human family. He must 
call upon them to exercise an habitual repentance for 



THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 311 

their own personal sins, and a cordial faith in the suf- 
ficiency and efficacy of the ransom, as the only — the 
indispensable condition of receiving its benefits. He 
is to teach them the necessity of a change of heart and 
life — a transformation of their moral nature by the 
special influences of the Holy Spirit, to be evinced by 
a life of practical piety. He is uniformly to insist on 
their entire and absolute depend ance upon God — the 
sovereignty which directs every spiritual communica- 
tion — connected with the criminality and guilt of all 
those, who remain unrenewed in the temper and dispo- 
sition of their minds. These are some of the great 
doctrines and duties which he is bound plainly to teach 
and inculcate. These are the great topics on which he 
is to dwell. And these are to be exhibited in a style 
precise and perspicuous, suited to the tastes and capaci- 
ties of his hearers. In his manner, he is to avoid alike 
a gloomy austerity and a frivolous lightness, a sickly 
sensibility, and a repulsive coldness. He should be im- 
pressed with a solemnity, such as the awful import of 
the message he brings, is fitted to produce. But he is 
not to be harsh and severe ; for the servant of the Lord 
must be gentle to all men, patient, in meekness instruct- 
ing those that oppose themselves. Nor are his instruc- 
tions to be given with an air of levity. All the subjects 
he is to illustrate and enforce — all the associations con- 
nected with his sacred office, are preeminently solemn. 
And can the preacher be light and trifling in his man- 
ner ? In view of the dread solemnities of the general 
judgment, when he must meet the people of his charge, 
oaa. he be otherwise than solemn ? 

The christian minister should also illustrate the doc- 
trines, and urge the practice of religion with affection- 
ate earnestness, in a tone of elevated feeling and 
earnest solicitude, equally removed from morbid ten- 
derness and frigid indifference. Not with an air of se- 
cret exultation, at being able to present unwelcome 
truths to the minds of his hearers — nor yet with an ex- 



312 RESPONSIBILITIES OF 

cessive sensibility that forbids a full exhibition of truths, 
however repugnant to the native feelings of the human 
heart, and an impressive application of them to the un- 
derstanding and conscience. He must not shun to de- 
clare the ivhole counsel of God, whether sinners will 
hear or not. But he must declare it with the tender- 
ness and meekness of true, wisdom. He must speak the 
truth, but he must speak it in love. With a cordial ap- 
probation of the truth himself, and an affectionate con- 
cern for the souls of his hearers. He must really be 

-much impressed 



Himself as conscious of his awful charge, 
And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds, 
May feel it too — affectionate in look 
And tender in address, as well becomes 
A messenger of grace to guilty men.' 1 

In view of the magnitude and importance of the min- 
isterial office, and of those varied and laborious duties 
connected with it which have now been briefly consid- 
ered, it would seem that no heart can be unimpressed 
with the sentiment, and no tongue unprepared to utter 
the language of the text — who is sufficient for 
these things? In view of these remarks, is there 
one present who does not pity the individual who has 
taken the charge of souls, with views altogether secular, 
with a mind wholly unaffected with a sense of his awful 
responsibility, entirely insensible to the worth of souls, 
and completely unprepared to minister to their spiritual 
improvement ? Is there one who does not tremble for 
that people, who are contented to follow such a blind 
guide ? 

II. It is now proposed in the second place to take 
a concise view of some oj the peculiar discouragements of 
the christian ministry. Those only will be noticed 
which are of a general character, and which are more 
or less peculiar to every faithful ambassador of Christ. 
The pious minister of the gospel is not, indeed, exempt 
from those various trials and spiritual conflicts which 



THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 313 

are common to every real christian. But they often 
assail him in thicker array — in a phalanx more impreg- 
nable, in an attitude more unyielding, and in circumstan- 
ces more perilous. He is a more elevated mark for the 
shafts of persecution on account of religious integrity. 
He is a more prominent object for the attacks of spirit- 
ual adversaries. He is placed on an eminence, and is 
compelled to wrestle not against flesh and blood only, 
but against principalities, against powers, against the 
rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual 
wickedness in high places. When fightings without 
subside, he has often a warfare within. If he escapes 
from the power of temptation, it is so as by fire. If vic- 
tory releases him from one conflict, it is that he may 
engage in another. Trials of this character, if not en- 
tirely peculiar to the christian minister, are seldom ex- 
perienced by others, in a degree so poignant and over- 
powering. And if they do not interrupt and embarrass 
him in the execution of his high commission, they lend 
a peculiar force and power to those discouragements, 
which meet none but the faithful preacher of the gospel. 
Some of these disheartening circumstances which oper- 
ate to embarrass and discourage the devoted minister, 
will now be mentioned. 

1 . The difficulty of fixing a conviction of guilt upon 
the minds of those who are evidently in a state of im- 
penitence and alienation from God, The gospel of 
Jesus Christ is addressed to sinners — to beings afflicted 
with a moral malady, whose very nature deadens their 
sense of its fatal tendency. It comes to those who are 
polluted with sin, but whose very pollution opposes a 
shield to the conviction of guilt. To make sinners sen- 
sible that they are such — to give them an abiding im- 
pression of their moral disorder — to fasten on their 
minds a conviction of personal guilt, is no easy task. 
Indeed, to convince them effectually, is in the power of 
God alone — is the work of the Holy Spirit. But the 
grand instrument which he employs for this purpose, is 

27 



314 RESPONSIBILITIES OF 

the preaching of the gospel. To this work every chris- 
tian minister is peculiarly devoted. Into the moral des- 
ert of this world, he is to go forth, and sow the seed of 
divine truth. To this valley of dry bones, he is to 
prophesy. Possibly the seed may take root, vegetate, 
and yield an abundance of fruit unto life eternal. It 
may be, that at the voice of his prophecy, the dry bones 
may receive a vital impulse, and a great multitude spring 
from the valley of pollution and death, to the regions of 
purity and life. I say possibly ; for that which is im- 
possible with man is possible with God. But how 
often does the sower scatter the seed, and the prophet 
prophesy in vain. How often does the faithful servant 
of Christ labor in vain and spend his strength for 
nought. With a fixed conviction of his own personal 
sinfulness" and guilt, and a full persuasion from the word 
of God, that his own original moral state accords with 
the native moral state of every child of Adam, he comes 
forth from Sabbath to Sabbath, to address the people of 
his charge, many of whom the broadest charity will not 
suffer him to regard as repentant and believing, and 
^strives to rouse them to a permanent sense of their guilt 
and consequent exposure to its tremendous doom. But 
it may be, he scarcely awakens them to perceive, much 
less to feel their actual condition. With the sword of 
the Spirit, that mighty weapon put into his hands by the 
great Captain under whom he serves, he endeavors to 
reach the heart, but he finds himself repelled at every 
point of attack. 

"Alas! Leviathan is not so tamed, 

but stricken hard, 

Turns to the stroke his adamantine scales 
That fear no injury from human hands." 

He labors to drive them from false refuges, to tear 
off the fine wrought vestments of self-righteousness, and 
to uncover to their view the hidden abominations of the 
heart — -but they still cling to their refuges of lies, still 
rest upon themselves, nor turn a single searching gaze 



THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 315 

upon ther inward corruptions. Thus apparently with- 
out success, thus powerless in his attempts to awaken in 
the minds of the impenitent, any lasting conviction of 
guilt, who with the worth of souls and his own respon- 
sibility in view, would not be disheartened ? who would 
not think these things against him ? and under circum- 
stances thus discouraging, on what can he rest — to what 
refuge escape, but the awful sanctity of Jehovah's pur- 
poses ? Even so, Father, for so it seemeth good in thy 
sight. 

2. The liability of exciting offence and disgust in the 
minds of his hearers, by direct and earnest appeals to 
their moral feelings, is often another source of discour- 
agement to the minister of Christ. He is by no means 
to be personal, but yet he is bound to be direct and dis- 
criminating, in applying both the promises and threat- 
enings of the gospel. He must cautiously avoid a loose 
generality of representation, which, if it admits, does 
not demand, a personal application to his hearers. 
Without descending to a minuteness of specification 
which might approach to personality, he is undoubtedly 
required to be so characteristic, that every one of his 
hearers may know to what class of characters he be- 
longs. If the minister seeks the best interests of his 
audience, it will be his object to insulate, as it were 3 
his hearers, to place each one of them apart, to close 
up every avenue by which a single individual can es- 
cape and mingle with the aggregate. In doing this with 
that plainness, solemnity, and affection which should ev- 
er characterize a messenger of grace, it is hardly possi- 
ble that he should escape censure. It must needs be 
that offences come. And even those who have manifes- 
ted a warm attachment to his person, and a zealous en- 
gagedness in his support, may be the first to become 
alienated in their affections, to withdraw themselves from 
his stated ministrations of the word, or to become doubly 
insensible, alike to the terrors of divine displeasure and 
the solicitations of mercy. Among persons of this class 



316 RESPONSIBILITIES OF 

may be those of a false candor and affected liberality, 
who regard error as harmless, creeds as useless, and all 
characters equally acceptable in the eye of heaven, how- 
ever absurd and unscriptural may be their principles 
and practice. Because he is a steward and is required 
to be faithful, because he cannot make the least com- 
promise in a point of such vital consequence, with any 
prejudices however prevailing — with any opinions how- 
ever popular, he excites their disgust and engages their 
displeasure. And this too, because he seeks not theirs, 
but them — because he dares not handle the word of God 
deceitfully — because he must ere long meet them at the 
bar of God. And who that has tasted the bitterness of 
blasted hopes, experienced the virulence of that dis- 
pleasure which springs from the warmth of former at- 
tachments, and witnessed that irreconcilable hostility 
which arrises from " love turned to hatred," need be 
reminded of the formidable discouragement which often 
meets the ambassador of Christ — when he finds his 
fondest expectations disappointed, and those whom he 
hoped continually to attach to himself, and to be the 
means of attaching to God and holiness, become 
thoroughly imbued in the gall of bitterness towards 
himself, while they remain alienated from God, and 
permanently fixed in thebond of iniquity*? When the 
more abundantly 'he loves them, the less he is loved,' 
and the more assiduously he labors to bring them nigh to 
God, and to prepare them for everlasting joys, they 
seem more rapidly ripening for the regions of despair. 
But, 

3. There is another source of discouragement still 
more disheartening. It is the equivocal piety, and in- 
consistent deportment of many who profess godliness — 
the want of spirituality of mind and sanctity of life in 
professing christians. A minister needs the spiritual 
sacrifices of the vitally pious — he needs their fervent 
prayers for him at the throne of grace. He needs their 
blameless manners and purity of life, to sanction the 



THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 317 

testimony which he bears to the importance, reality, and 
practical efficacy of vital Christianity. He needs their 
prompt and cordial co-operation in all his endeavors to 
advance the interest, and to extend the influence of 
pure religion. O ! a christian minister needs a chris- 
tian church; not in name merely, but in doctrines, in 
spirit, and in practice. But how often does a minister 
become the pastor of a flock whose views of religious 
doctrines are discordant, and in individuals, perhaps, 
fatally defective. And how can they walk together ex- 
cept they be agreed f But when there is a general co- 
incidence of views, there is often such a diversity of 
tempers, as clearly evinces that they are not the fruit of 
the same Spirit. Under such circumstances, there is 
much reason to fear their efforts will be disunited, and 
their prayers hindered. The pastor of such a church, 
instead of being helped forward in his arduous labors, 
by their united prayers, and co-operating exertions, 
must be embarrassed and discouraged with the difficulty 
of preserving those, who have professedly renounced the 
world, from yielding again to its seductive influence. 
Instead of having the whole church decidedly with him 
in the posture, and with the ability, to oppose the in- 
roads of her enemies, and to extend the empire of light 
over the region of darkness, he perhaps finds those en- 
listed in the enterprize, who have scarcely the habili- 
ment, much less the armor, of soldiers — who have 
scarcely the form, much less the power, of godliness. 
Of this class there may be some who are christians, not 
because they have repented of their sins, and believed 
in Christ, but by a kind of hereditary right — because 
they were born in a christian land, and descended from 
christian parents — because they have been decent and 
orderly in their life, and observed all external duties 
from their youth up. There may be some again, who, 
although it is apparent they have never experienced 
any saving change, yet have placed themselves within 
the pale of the church, and are under little or no appre- 

27* 



318 RESPONSIBILITIES OF 

hension respecting their state, merely because they once 
felt poignant convictions of sin. From these convictions 
they infer their real conversion. From former appre- 
hensions they derive a xure for present fears. From 
past forebodings of danger, an earnest of future safety. 
It is from a church composed of elements thus discor- 
dant, and mingled with but little of the vitality of reli- 
gion, that a minister of Christ attached with an invinci- 
ble fidelity to his Master, must meet with discourage- 
ments the most appalling and unconquerable. He might 
endure to be repulsed in every attempt to fasten con- 
viction in the minds of the impenitent, if he were sup- 
ported by a church " indissolubly firm" — a company of 
real christians, humble and devoted — praying and watch- 
ful, clad in the armor, glowing with the spirit, and dif- 
fusing around them the elements of heaven. He could 
meet the coldness and brave the hostility of those whom 
the truth offends, if he might repose in the confidence 
and be secure of the affection of those whom the truth 
makes free. But to fail of this support, this confidence 
and affection, is to let go the last encouragement de- 
rived from earth. But I hasten to a more grateful 
topic — to a very limited view, 

III. Of the peculiar supports and encouragements 
of the christian ministry. And here I might notice the 
acknowledged dignity and importance of the objects. 
It is the means employed in the execution of apian the 
most enlarged, august, and glorious, which the universe 
ever witnessed. It aims to bring back an apostate and 
rebellious world to the service and allegiance of its 
Sovereign. Its design embraces the mighty project of 
effecting the moral renovation of unnumbered millions, 
and of restoring them to the favor and everlasting en- 
joyment of God. It is an essential part of a system of 
operations, originated by the wisdom and benevolence 
of Jehovah, and tending to illustrate in the most striking 
manner, the nature and perfect consistency of all his 
glorious attributes. In the promotion of this vast de- 



THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 319 

sign, celestial intelligences become ministering spirits. 
And whose courage would not be animated, whose 
ardor would not be enkindled, and whose efforts would 
not be redoubled in co-operating with them in their 
labors of love? Here too, I might mention as an en- 
couraging circumstance connected with the christian 
ministry, the almost endless variety and abundance of 
the subjects to be illustrated and enforced. Here is no 
dearth of topics — no want of diversity — no narrowness 
of range. The bible is a world, if the expression be 
allowed, 

" made so various that the mind 



Of desultory man, studious of change, 

And pleased with novelty might be indulged." 

Here is something grateful to every taste that relishes 
moral excellence. Here are subjects suited to the ca- 
pacities of every person — and to every person equally 
and inconceivably interesting. Here is a storehouse of 
imagery, either pleasing or painful, beautiful or sublime. 
This world thus vast and various, is the preacher's text- 
book — he need not be dull — he need not be monoto- 
nous — he need not apprehend he can ever exhaust it. 
But I am yet to mention two or three sources of a min- 
ister's encouragement. 

1 . The promised aid of the Holy Spirit to accompa- 
ny the faithful exhibition of divine truth. The gospel 
which he preaches is the dispensation of the Spirit. 
From this promised aid, he may take courage. If every 
other source of encouragement should fail, this never 
will. In circumstances the most unpropitious, this is a 
strong ground of confidence. In the midst of discour- 
agements the most perplexing, a full belief in a perpet- 
ual divine operation, will send a thrill of holy courage 
through the soul, and inspire constancy of effort. When- 
the really pious servant of Christ perceives the most 
pointed and awakening appeals to the minds of his im- 
penitent fellow sinners wholly without effect, or when 



320 RESPONSIBILITIES OF 

he discovers that his earnest and affectionate endeavors 
for their spiritual good, awakens in their minds only 
disgust and animosity; or when he finds himslf aban- 
doned even by the select few who have named the 
name of Christ, he has no reason to despair — he may 
live on the promise — he may feel the reality of the 
assurance — Lo ! Iamivith you always, even unto the end 
of the world. In the strength of this promised spiritual 
assistance, sustained by an assurance so encouraging, 
he need not faint in his labors. If the moral desert 
should not send forth a luxuriant vegetation beneath his 
labors ; if it still remain barren and, unfruitful, his sin- 
cere endeavors will not be lost. Others may enter into 
his labors, and reap that whereon they bestowed no toil. 
The truths of God's word faithfully preached, will 
accomplish that which he designs. It will prove a sa- 
vour of life unto life, or death unto death, to those who 
hear it. If it becomes the means of salvation to none 
else, the faithful instrument by which it is dispensed, 
will not lose his reward — for 

2. To all those who faithfully execute the office of a 
bishop, the Scriptures promise a glorious recompense, 
as both the evidence and crown of their labors of love. 
Although the christian minister is but a humble instru- 
ment in the hand of God from whom all efficiency, 
grace, and mercy come, yet his reward shall be as rich 
and ample, as if the work had been exclusively his own. 
He shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and 
as the stars forever and ever. If, in that day when God 
shall present his peculiar children to an assembled uni- 
verse, the least of this number shall be thrilled with 
raptures of inconceivable delight, what must be the 
emotions of him who from this threshold of eternity, 
contemplates his finished ministry ? To have been the 
object of divine care and favor — to have been made 
the channel of communicating to perishing sinners the 
richest bounty of Heaven^, and of pouring forth on 
them the unction of eternal love, must awaken emotions 



THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 321 

which will never be fully known, until that period, when 
in regions of purer light and brighter elevation, the 
worth of the soul, and the progress of its destiny, shall 
be clearly perceived. 

Here I might close the discourse. But the peculiar 
circumstances under which I address you seems to 
require that I recur with you for a moment, to a few of 
the topics which have been considered, with a view to 
a more particular application to ourselves. The chris- 
tian ministry is a grand and glorious institution, associ- 
ated with all that is valuable in time, and all that is 
blessed in eternity. It demands therefore our cordial 
support and encouragement. The duties connected 
with it, are in a very high degree, interesting and mo- 
mentous. These duties devolve on me. In their faith- 
ful performance, may I not expect the eo-operating aid 
of your prayers and efforts ? The work in which I am 
engaged, is attended with formidable discouragements. 
May I not rely on your countenance and support? 
There are also great encouragements. . Pray that I 
may continually feel their inspiration. My christian 
friends, the time is short. The little period of my min- 
istry among you will soon vanish away. But its conse- 
quences will always abide. But time is short. A few 
circling years will sweep us all away — a few ages more, 
and this temple^of God in which we worship, will crum- 
ble to dust and be scattered by the winds of heaven. 
Yet a few more centuries shall roll away, and the mate- 
rial universe itself shall sink into the blackness of eter- 
nal annihilation. But our souls are indestructible ; 
they will live. The consequences of our present con- 
nexion will remain. O ! then, may I be enabled so to 
preach, and you so to hear, that when time and nature 
die, eternity and heaven shall be ours ! 

3. It would be impious not to notice with devout 
gratitude the signal encouragement vouchsafed to min- 
isters of the present day in their work. Once it was 
common for ministers with no less fidelity than now, to 



322 RESPONSIBILITIES OF 

go forth weeping bearing precious seed, without being 
allowed for many years to come again rejoicing, bring- 
ing their sheaves with them. Now it has become rare 
for a man of faith to labor where there are devoted and 
praying people, without being permitted to witness 
almost continual displays of renewing grace. The days 
of the apostles have in some sort returned, and the gos- 
pel is preached with the Holy Ghost sent down from 
heaven, in measure and power like that of Pentecost. 
The promise of God, a reliance on which has long been 
the chief support of faithful pastors, is now fulfilling 
almost beyond the fervent hopes of the godly. How 
long this period of refreshing may continue — how long 
before this day of revivals may close — or what new 
embarrassments and trials may arise amidst these de- 
scending showers of converting grace, to trouble and 
discourage the humble and enlightened ambassadors of 
Christ, are all alike to be learned only from the unfolding 
future. Doubtless, if one class of discouragements 
disappears, others equally formidable will come. Every 
one who will be found doing his Master's work, must 
have something to try his faith and patience — something 
to press him down — something to make him feel where 
his strength lies — something to make him borrow his 
impulses and his energies from above. But yet who 
will not take courage from the existing aspect of Zion ! 
Who will not welcome these tokens of the Saviour's 
gracious presence, as symptoms of a still brighter day ; 
of his still more glorious triumphs — of his approaching 
millennial reign ? 

And now, beloved hearers, what use shall we make 
of this subject. Although it respects the duties, diffi- 
culties, and encouragements of christian ministers, yet 
we all have an interest in it. The christian ministry is 
a grand and glorious institution, intimately associated 
with all that is truly desirable in time, and all that is 
blessed in eternity. Every one, then, is bound to give 



THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY. 323 

it his cordial support and encouragement. The duties 
connected with it, are interesting and momentous be- 
yond description. On the manner of their performance, 
depend results which it is impossible seriously to con- 
template without concern. And yet numerous and 
formidable are the circumstances that tend to embarrass 
its faithful performance. These duties, with their atten- 
ding difficulties and discouragements, come upon me. 
And may not my heart breathe the anxious interroga- 
tory WHO IS SUFFICIENT FOR THESE THINGS ? My 

experience in the work of the ministry, certainly does 
not abate my sense of its magnitude, importance, and 
difficulties. Never did I more sensibly feel their solem- 
nity and weight. Never did I more need the sympathy 
and prayers of my fellow christians. Shall I not con- 
tinue to share them ? You will fully see, my brethren, 
at another day, in the results of my ministry, the degree 
of your faithfulness in bearing me on your hearts before 
the throne of Mercy. And when I think of the revela- 
tions of that day, and how the results of every sermon 
I preach, are then to be brought to light in their whole 
extent, I feel as though it would be better for us all ; 
better for you, better for my dear impenitent hearers, 
and better for myself, not to preach again, unless I can 
have a lively interest in your prayers and sympathies. 
O ! we know but little, because we think but little, of the 
amazing results of the christian ministry among a peo- 
ple. How it is fast ripening men either for heaven or 
hell. We pass on from Sabbath to Sabbath, and from 
year to year, little heeding the awful account that is 
making up for the last day. We hear a sermon, and 
forget it. But it will then come into dreadful remem- 
brance. We listen to the preacher, as to the tones of 
music, but these same tones will last, and swell into 
harsh and horrid thunders forever, unless we lay them 
to heart now. Many of you have been respectful hear- 
ers of the word ; but O, you have not received it in love. 



324 RESPONSIBILITIES OF, &C. 

Must it be so still ? Some of you may be often offended 
by my poor attempts to be faithful to your souls. Must 
it continue to be so, until you awake in the blackness of 
an eternal night of despair ? For six years some of you 
have been acquiring hardness of heart, under my min- 
istry. O, for some word to reach and melt these hearts 
into penitence and love. 



SERMON XXV 



An awful Visitation* religiously improved. 



JOB XIV. 18, 19. 

iURELY THE MOUNTAIN FALLING COMETH TO NOUGHT, AND 
THE ROCK IS REMOVED OUT OF HIS PLACE. THE WATERS 
WEAR THE STONES J THOU WASHEST AWAY THE THINGS 
WHICH GROW OUT OF THE DUST OF THE EARTH ; AND THOU 
DESTROYEST THE HOPE OF MAN. 



The more signal occurrences in the providence of 
God, which from time to time agitate and diversify this 
scene of things, not only teach a lesson strikingly ac- 
cordant with the instructions of inspired truth, but are 
often most accurately described in the very language of 
Scripture. Nor do such providential occurrences re- 
semble the lessons of the sacred record, less in the lim- 
ited influence they have on the heart and lives of men. 
The word of God spreads its pages, and new and im- 
pressive leaves in the book of providence, are continually 
unfolding to attract and interest, but rarely do either 
leave a lasting salutary impression. Events, which for 
a season arrest and absorb the public mind with their 
deep felt and solemnly instructive interest, are seen to 
pass into dim recollection, without leaving any memorials 
of their beneficial sway. In the pestilence, the earth- 
quake, the tempest, and in the sweeping scourge of 
overflowing torrents, Jehovah sends forth a teaching 

* Avalanche at the White Hills, Aug. 1826. 

28 



326 AN AWFUL VISITATION 

voice to the children of men ; but like his written word, 
it is misinterpreted, neglected, and forgotten. To give 
that voice a deeper emphasis — to make it understood 
and felt, by combining its solemn tones with the notes 
of warning, reproof, and correction which come from I 
the bible, has appeared to me to be a duty too plain, 
and an object too desirable not to be attempted by the 
christian preacher. If contemporary events have an ; 
eloquence, a pathos, an impressiveness, which far ex- ! 
ceed the highest efforts of human language or thought, 
not to give them a tongue, were to affect a wisdom be- 
yond that which is written. For in such events the 
Most High himself preaches. He comes down, not 
indeed upon the mount that burned with fire. But he 
is seen to rend the heavens and come down ; and while 
the mountains flow down at his presence, he repeats again 
his instructions of old, in those terrible acts of his might, 
which the language of his own inspiration has best 
described. — surely the mountain falling cometh 
to nought, and the rock is removed out of his 
place. the waters wear the stones ; thou 
washest away the things which grow out of the 
dust of the earth j and thou destroyest the 
hope of man. 

This passage will be perceived to be a very correct, 
though compendious account of a recent providential 
dispensation, whose painful catastrophe touched so wide- 
ly the sympathies of our community. That the mourn- 
ful occurrence which has not yet ceased to occupy our 
minds, and to operate keenly on the common sensibili- 
ties of our nature, may not fail to leave good impressions 
upon our hearts, I shall introduce several desultory re- 
marks, the common suggestions of the passage just 
repeated, and of the calamitous event itself. 

I. One important lesson forcibly taught amidst the 
scene of the desolations alluded to, is the frailty of 

MAN. THE MOUNTAIN FALLING COMETH TO NOUGHT. 



RELIGIOUSLY IMPROVED. 327 

This undeniable, though often forgotten truth, is more 
commonly illustrated by comparing our animal na- 
ture to the most fragile, transient, and perishable ob- 
jects around us. We are like the grass, the flower of 
the field, the vapor, or the fleeting shadow. As for 
man his days are as grass. He cometh forth like a 
flower, and is cut down — he fleeth also as a shadow and 
continueth not. We all do fade as a leaf. For what 
is our life ? it is even a vapor, that appeareth for a lit- 
tle time, and then vanisheth away. Although such fig- 
urative representations as these, scarcely more than lit- 
erally describe the weakness and frailty of our mortal 
race, yet the very slight departure from a strictly accu- 
rate description, does in the case of not a few, greatly 
diminish the weight of impression left on the mind. 
Impressive as are these emblems of himself, man can 
witness the growth and decay of vegetation — can gaze 
at the shifting — fleeting shadow — can behold the con- 
gregated vapors vanish, and still feel an unabated con- 
fidence in his hold on life. Indeed, the contrast between 
his own more abiding destiny, and their transient being, 
may rather serve to foster a feeling of deeper and more 
quiet repose in the fancied stability of his mountain. 
Because he outlives a long succession of those fleeting 
objects, to which his mortal existence is frequently and 
familiarly likened, he is strengthened in the persuasion 
that he shall very remotely, if ever, resemble the falling 
flower and perishing verdure of the field. But let such 
as will not learn their perpetual and inevitable exposure 
to death, from the dissolution of the freshest and fairest 
objects in the world of vegetation, because these do not 
in all points precisely shadow forth their condition ; 
look away to the falling mountain and learn that fact 
there. If they yield not to the influence of the wind, 
beneath whose passing breath the blossoms and herbage 
of the earth wither and are gone, they must cease to 
regard their house of this tabernacle indissoluble, when 
they see the perpetual hills bow, and the everlasting 



328 AN AWFUL VISITATION 






mountains melt away. It was with a view to present 
the important truth of human frailty, and the exposed- 
ness of our bodies to an irreparable dissolution, in a 
forcible and convincing light, that the afflicted Job in- 
troduced this allusion to an event not uncommon in the 
region in which he dwelt. He had compared man to 
whatever is most fading and evanescent ; but as if not 
satisfied, he adverts to a class of objects wholly opposite 
in their nature. He turns to the most stable and abiding 
appendages of the globe we inhabit. From the em- 
blems of all that is unsubstantial and dying in this per- 
ishing world, he directs the mind to what might stand 
as a representative of all it has, which can aspire to the 
character of fixedness and durability. But surely 
they falling come to nought. And from their fall 
and dissolution, he seems conscious of deriving an ar- 
gument as irresistible as the sweep of their ruins, to 
evince the powerlessness of human strength, and the 
brevity and precariousness of our earthly existence. 
Do those massy piles which stand fixed in living rock, 
drop from their dizzy height, and disappear in a flood 
of commingled ruins ? And can we, who have our 
foundation in the dust, and who are made of clay, ex- 
pect to escape the catastrophe of dissolution, and share 
a more abiding destiny here than they ? If what, from 
their enduring character, are denominated everlasting 
hills, sink beneath the footsteps of Omnipotence, what 
should beings anticipate, who are crushed before the 
moth ? Let then, as many of us as are secretly in- 
dulging the thought that we shall never be moved — that 
our mortal structure is too strongly built to be dissolved, 
take a view of the scene among the blue summits that 
skirt yonder horizon ; where he who reared those mighty 
masses, has lately been exerting the terrible energies of 
his power. We may, and perhaps we do, behold flow- 
ers fade and fall, and collected vapors dissolve and van- 
ish, without a practical conviction of the great truth I 
am considering ; but who can escape such conviction 



RELIGIOUSLY IMPROVED. 329 

with this scene before the mind ? Who can send a 
glance of thought over these stupendous desolations, 
and not have that thought revert to the final ruin of his 
own earthly taberbernacle, as a most solemn, inevitable 
and rapidly approaching event ? Surely, when man 
beholds mountains dissolve and flow down at the pres- 
ence of the King of heaven, he must feel that he cannot 
be too high, to be brought low, or too firmly encompas- 
sed about by the energies of his own strength, to be 
dissolved. O, when such a power is seen at work 
around him in acts so tremendous — when rocks melt 
away in the breath of the Almighty, he must feel that 

"The spider's most attenuated thread 

Is cord, is cable to man's tender tie 

On earthly bliss — it breaks at every breeze." 

He must feel the instructive lesson taught by the scene 
impressed on his heart — and go away with the impres- 
sion, that before the amazing power of him in whose 
hand his life is, his frame is more fragile than the flower 
of spring, and his life more unstaying than the fleeting 
shadow. 

II. The mutability of earthly things is anoth- 
er lesson taught by the disastrous visitation which sug- 
gests my present remarks. Since our earth was first 
sent forth from the hand of its Maker to travel its des- 
tined period of ages, it has evidently undergone no 
small changes in its prominent visible features. Most 
of these changes occurred at a period back beyond the 
reach of its earliest authentic history. The certainty 
of their occurrence, however, does not depend on the 
present existence of such testimony. We can scarcely 
fix our eyes upon a spot of earth which exhibits not 
marks of having long since been the scene of no ordi- 
nary physical revolutions. Rocks that lie piled on 
rocks in tottering elevation, frowning cliffs, and those pre- 
cipitous heights on which the canopy of heaven seems 
to rest, are so many perpetual witnesses of successive 

28* 



330 AN AWFUL VISITATION 

waves of changes which swept over our globe through 
those primitive ages that lie concealed in the deep obscu- 
rity of the past. Nor have these tides of changes ceased 
to rise and fall. Earth remains unchanged only in its 
changeable character. In every other respect it abides 
the same scene of perpetual vicissitude. Perhaps those 
deep and mighty convulsions which were wont to rend 
the earth, and disturb the settled pillars of its strength, 
are less frequent than in the infancy of its career. That 
fearful catastrophe which broke up the fountains of the 
great deep, gave, it is probable, to its entire surface a 
wholly new and varied aspect. Nothing since has op- 
erated so widely or powerfully in varying its external 
appearance. Still, it has been the theatre of changes 
which have reached much farther than to the transient 
and floating accompaniments of its climates and its 
seasons. The silent but resistless energies of time, have 
been up to this moment at work. And though it is so 
noiseless and uniform in its operation, as to escape a 
speedy detection of its progress ; yet the lapse of only a 
few score years, shows that it has hurried its half score 
of millions of earth's population to the grave, and 
brought as many more to crowd its busy walks of toil 
and suffering. Thus, in the limited period of only a 
few years, this world comes forth peopled with a new 
succession of living, acting, conscious, and immortal 
beings. It becomes, in respect to all its most interesting 
features, changed into a new world. All its thinking 
myriads have passed away. Not one lingers to witness 
the greatness of the change, or to give to the present, 
an example of the age gone by. Where now the crowd 
which once thronged the busy streets of Nineveh, Baby- 
lon, and Palmyra ? How changed the race which now 
possess their desolations ! Where too are the wandering 
tribes, which two centuries ago held the undisputed 
dominion of our own native hills and plains, and lakes 
and rivers ? 



RELIGIOUSLY IMPROVED. 331 

The mutability of terrestrial things is seen, if in a less 
affecting, yet in a no less striking light, in those changes 
which are continually occurring in the more fixed and 
permanent objects around us. Rivers change their 
course ; islands sink and emerge from the ocean ; 
lakes change their bed ; mountains, disturbed in their 
repose of ages, cast down their loosened summits in 
horrible ruins ; rocks that resist steadfast any combina- 
tion of energies from human might or skill, are remov- 
ed OUT OF THEIR PLACE ; WATERS WEAR AWAY THE 

living rock; and the overflowing scourge passes 
through, and sweeps away in one congregated flood of 
ruins, the fruits of the earth and the labor of man. In 
view of this representation of earthly changes and 
chances, as well as of the event which has led to these 
remarks, to what object possessing an earthly character 
can man look, that is not as inconstant and variable 
as the agitated surface of yonder billowy expanse ? Oh! 
the omnipotence of time ! what revolutions it effects in 
all that is below the skies. Would you get a sense of 
the mutable character which time impresses on all the 
scenes and objects of earth ? Let imagination picture to 
your mind that gloomy valley on that memorable and 
tenfold gloomy night. There on that spot of earth, in 
that point of time, are epitomized the changes of all 
earth, through all time. Man is swept away. His works 
perish. The deep lineaments in the aspect of nature 
vary. What is deemed most stable throughout the 
range of earth — a mountain of eternal rock, becomes 
loosened and melts away into the vale below. Rivers 
find a new course. And all that is fresh, and gay, and 
lovely, and picturesque in the scene, becomes one rude 
and sullen blank of awful grandeur, rendered more 
appalling by vestiges of a wide-spread devastation. 
Who can gaze at such a picture, and not feel that every 
thing terrestrial is a passing shadow ? 

III. Amidst such a scene how impressively is taught 

the VANITY OF EARTHLY HOPES. THOU DESTROYEST THE 



332 AN AWFUL VISITATION 

hope of man. The way in which the Most High de- 
stroys human hopes, is not by extinguishing in the mind 
all expectation of future good, and pouring into it all 
the bitterness of despair. He only leaves those hopes 
to be disappointed. It is in the nature of things, that 
all hope of coming good apart from God — or in other 
words, every earthly hope must in this sense be de« 
stroyed. It must fail of being realized. It matters not 
that the good desired, be obtained. It of necessity fails 
to satisfy. In the possession it becomes something wide- 
ly different from what it was in the expectation. In 
the glow of a warm and lively imagination which has 
felt nothing of the guiding and chastening power of 
grace, circumstances and things altogether earthly in 
their nature, assume an importance and value which 
render them objects of a fervent hope. But such hope, 
whether deferred or gratified, makes the heart sick. 
Should it prove otherwise for a season — should this class 
of objects in their fruition, come up to the full measure 
of the good expected in them — should there turn out to 
be no disappointment in the kind and degree of the pres- 
ent gratification they yield — -yet that cannot long abide. 
If the fact of its short-lived character, is not suffered to 
bring home to the bosom the fearful thought of the near* 
ness and bitterness of its end, there may be something 
like an exclusive enjoyment of earthly things. The 
unwelcome thought does, however, intrude. It spoils 
the present, and blasts the hope of the future. At far- 
thest, the brief period of mortal life, must limit the du- 
ration of all happiness derived purely from earth. The 
hope, indeed, of not a few, no doubt is that worldly 
gratifications are to terminate in heavenly bliss — that 
such as drink only at the fountain of earthly good, will 
depart to drink at the river of those pleasures which 
flow at the right hand of God. How vain and fatal is 
such a hope, need not be shown. They who are without 
a capacity for happiness here, must be so in heaven. 



RELIGIOUSLY IMPROVED. 333 

They, who construct the edifice of their hopes of bliss 
eternal, of earthly materials, will find that edifice sink 
in irreparable ruin beneath the sweep of the last tem- 
pest. But what especially evinces the vanity of those 
hopes which are more appropriately earthly, is the un- 
certainty of the attainment and continuance of the ob- 
jects, which they exclusively respect. It has been ob- 
served that, when attained, the utmost measure of their 
continuance stretches no farther than the range of our 
mortal career. And yet unnumbered objects, though 
fervently desired and longed for, are never brought 
home into actual possession ; while as many more 
after being grasped as enduring substances, are either 
forced away by the hand of Providence, or fly away as 
an eagle toward heaven. It must be so. For man is 
but dust, and all these objects of his worldly expecta- 
tion are deceitful in their appearance, mutable in their 
nature, and as short lived as the fading and dying world 
of vegetation around us. If we will turn our thoughts 
to that scene of God's recent providential visitation, we 
may see the emptiness of such hopes written in the aw- 
ful characters of its ruins. Do we hope in the stability 
of our mountain ? Behold that mountain which lately 
pillared the firmament, dissolved and melted away. Have 
we high hopes in the good coming to us from friends in 
the various endeared relations of life ? See that group, 
bound together by all the tenderest ties of relationship, 
hurried apart, to be speedily mingled together in one 
common ruin. Do our hopes cluster around the wealth 
that may come from the gainful occupations among 
men ? Look at the devastation which has taken away, 
in one night of horrors, the fruit of years of laborious 
enterprise. Go, and read there, the history of worldly 
hopes. Go, and gaze, until your heart feels how low 
and empty are all expectations which look not beyond 
earth and time ! 

IV. I just observe, finally, that the disastrous event, 
whose suggestions I have followed in my remarks at this 



334 AN AWFUL VISITATION 

time, will assist us in forming some adequate concep- 
tions of those terrors which will overwhelm the wicked at 
the last day. Then shall the kings of the earth, and 
the great men, and the rich men, and the chief captains, 
and the mighty men, and every bondman, and every free- 
man, hide themselves in the dens, and in the rocks of 
the mountains; and shall say to the mountains and the 
rocks — fall on us, and hide us from the face of him that 
sittteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb. 
This is the account which God himself has given of the 
deep and unutterable consternation which wicked men 
will feel, when the great day of his wrath shall have 
come. No destruction can come upon our mortal part, 
more indescribably dreadful, than to be buried beneath 
the congregated ruins of rocks and mountains. A chil- 
ling horror has thrilled our whole frame, when we have 
thought of the lamented family, attempting in vain to es- 
cape from the rushing and thundering torrent of a melt- 
ed descending mountain. But the wicked at the final 
day will welcome such an appalling interment, as a de- 
sirable shelter from the burning vengeance of Almighty 
wrath. Oh ! they will choose rather to plunge amidst 
such a tremendous weight of ruins, than to feel and hate 
the holy displeasure of God unmitigated and unending ! 

In briefly applying this subject, let me say to the chil- 
dren of God, you have nothing to fear. True indeed, 
your bodies are soon to decay. All the objects amidst 
which you now reside, are mutable and transitory. 
Hopes that stretch not beyond this world must prove 
empty and ruinous. Horrors unutterable are near to 
come on the children of the wicked one. But you 
have a building of God — an inheritance unchangeable — 
a hope full of immortality — a shelter from every danger 
and every fear. When the overflowing scourge shall 
pass through, you shall shout from your hiding place, 
as your redemption draws nigh. 

But what shall I say to the wicked ? I can describe 
your folly. I can evince your unhappiness. I can as- 



RELIGIOUSLY IMPROVED. 335 

sure you on the authority of the God of truth, that you 
are in danger. I can exhort you to take the path to 
duty, to happiness, to safety, to heaven. All this you 
have often heard. And will you brave an eternal storm ? 
Will you belong to the class who shall choose to sink 
beneath falling mountains, rather than endure the pres- 
ence of God ? 



SERMON XXVI 



Spring* 

PSALM CIV. 30. 

THOU RENEWEST THE FACE OF THE EARTH. 

The more grand and striking exhibitions of power 
which are witnessed on earth, not unfrequently attract 
but little notice. Some of the mightiest operations of 
nature, are those which are least regarded. While the 
roar of angry torrents, and the impetuous rush of cata- 
racts, awaken the breathless admiration of multitudes, 
the broad, deep, and silent courses of mighty rivers, 
pass as unheeded as they are noiseless and irresistible 
in their flow. Tempests that rage and spread their 
desolations for only an hour, arrest universal attention, 
but how few are interested in the view of that match- 
less power, which unweariedly moves on the wheels of 
nature, directs the varied round of the seasons, and 
from a state of decay and barrenness, renews the 
face of the earth ? No doubt familiarity tends 
much to create an inattention to the visible display of 
Jehovah's uniform operations. Events, however splen- 
did, if of frequent occurrence, and scenes the most 
lovely often surveyed, gradually lose much of their 
power to attract and interest. But no frequency of 
repetition can abate the interest which holy beings must 
ever feel, in surveying whatever serves to develope the 



SPRING. 337 

divine character and perfections. So that the grand 
cause of this listless inattention to the works and ways 
of God, is to be sought in the strong inherent depravity 
of the human mind. And perhaps, the depravation of 
our nature shows itself in nothing more conspicuously, 
than in that dislike to retain God in their knowledge ; 
in that willingness to forget his presence and agency, 
which marks the native character of our whole race. 
Now to counteract its alarming sway by inducing an 
habitual recognition of Jehovah's power and faithfulness, 
alike in the occurrences of providence and in the phen- 
omena of nature — to acquire the habit of viewing him as 
immediately acting in them all, becomes the pressing 
duty, as well as the high privilege of every individual. 
Occasions suggesting the utility, and aiding the perform- 
ance of this duty, are constantly occurring. Every 
successive season of the year seems to demand a pause, 
and to invite a contemplation of the wonderful works of 
God. His energy, goodness, and truth, are displayed, 
not only in those seasons when all the trees of the field 
are withered, and when he giveth snow like wool, and 
casteth forth his ice like morsels, but especially and pre- 
eminently at the present, when he renews the face 
of the earth, and clothes the visible creation around 
us, in all the freshness, verdure, and bloom of Spring. 

In pursuing for a few moments a train of reflections 
suggested by the present season, let it be our desire so 
to look to the earth that it may teach us. 

I. It is impossible to send even a transient glance 
over the existing aspect of nature, without discovering 
palpable indications of almighty power and benevo- 
lence. The change which has silently and impercepti- 
bly taken place in the vegetable world, is not the crea- 
tion of any secret and inherent energy in nature, but is 
the result of Jehovah's immediate efficiency. He has 
renewed the face of the earth. What are call- 
ed the laws of nature, are only his constantly exerted 
power. Were this for a moment withdrawn, universal 

29 



338 SPRING. 

nature would revert to its original chaos. That hand, 
which has given to every world its form and structure, 
continues to give it all its motions and t3ndencies. He 
sits upon the circuit of the earth, and impels it in its an- 
nual career. He binds the sweet influence of the Pleia- 
des, and looses the bands of Orion. He brings forth 
Mazzaroth in his season, and guides Arcturus with his 
sons. That unvaried uniformity which marks the 
changes and revolutions in nature, so far from furnish- 
ing an argument against the all directing influence of 
the Most High, does most conclusively evince the op- 
eration of such an influence. So that the fact, that 
all things continue as they were from the beginning — 
that summer, and autumn, and winter, and spring pre- 
serve their successive reign, proves that chance or fa- 
tality has no place in all these wonderful works. It 
proves that our world forever changing, and yet the 
same, owes all its changes, and its preservation to that 
Infinite One, 

" who retired 

Behind his own creation, works unseen 

By the impure, and hears his power denied." 

Yes, he has smiled, and lo ! the winter is past, the flow- 
ers appear on the earth, and the time of the singing of 
birds, is come. To him we owe every agreeable cir- 
cumstance of the passing season. He has spread out 
over our heads these skies of a serener blue. The breeze 
that fans the waving verdure, that breathes the fragrance, 
and wafts the melody of the groves, comes soft and 
gentle from the same benignant power. Landscapes 
that stretch on every side, receive their rich and varied 
garniture from him. He clothes the swelling mountains 
in robes of countless hues, and throws over the valleys 
the flowery mantle of spring. Every plant receives from 
him its form, its shade, and texture. He gives its tints 
and fragrance to every flower. He visits the earth, and 
waters the ridges thereof abundantly — he settles the fur- 



SPRING. 339 

rows thereof- — he makes it soft with showers — he blesses 
the springing thereof- — his paths drop fatness. They 
drop upon the pastures of the wilderness, and the little 
hills rejoice on every side. The pastures are clothed 
with flocks — the valleys are covered over with corn — they 
shout for joy — they also sing. Wherever we turn, 
we behold tokens of the power, faithfulness, and benig- 
nity of God. How mighty the transformation ! How 
rapid, grateful, and indispensable the change ! At his 
word the ruins of the year — the desolations of winter 
are repaired ; a vital energy goes forth, and a world of 
vegetation springs into life ! How manifold are his 
works ! In wisdom hath he made them all. The whole 
earth is full of his riches. 

And can any one fail to discover in the renovated 
aspect of nature, marks of the unwearied care, and of 
the unfailing benevolence of him, who is alike wonderful 
in counsel and excellent in working ? Instead of re- 
newing the face of the earth, he could with equal 
ease have stayed the earth in her circuit, prolonged the 
reign of winter, and extended the empire of barren des- 
olation over all that broad region, that is now clothed in 
the luxuriance, and gladdened with the smiles of spring. 
Or without interrupting the march of a world in its orbit> 
he could have stayed the bottles of heaven, and shut out 
the influences of the sun, until vegetation languishing 
and dying, had blasted all the expectations of the year. 
In a thousand ways the same Power, who has so 
gratefully revived the vegetable creation, might have 
withered its unfolding germs, and disappointed the 
hopes of man. His goodness, then, is to be thank- 
fully recognized in the progress of the season. The 
beauty and loveliness of vernal scenery — this fail* 
creation — these unrivalled works with which we are 
surrounded, demand our fervent love and gratitude to 
him, who for our benefit has made them such. 

II. The renewal of the face of the earth by an 
immediate divine agency, can scarcely fail to be associa- 
ted in the religious mind with that great moral change 



340 SPRING. 

which is produced in the hearts of men by the same Al- 
mighty Power. They seem to have been connected in 
the mind of the Psalmist. Thou sendest forth thy 
Spirit, they are created, and thou renewest the 
face of the earth. Indeed, between this natural 
and moral renovation, there is, in several respects, a 
somewhat striking resemblance. Before the transform- 
ing power of God is experienced, winter reigns in the 
soul. Its moral faculties exist, but they are dull and 
inactive. It sends forth no desires towards heaven. 
It thirsts not for the water of life. It sleeps fast bound 
in the chains of sin. And darkness and desolation fill 
all its dreary chambers. But when it is reached by the 
Spirit poured out from on high, its dull and torpid 
powers receive a vital impulse. Pervaded by a new 
creating energy, its aspirations ascend to God. It 
thirsts for living waters. It awakens from the slumbers, 
and bursts from the chains of sin. The Sun of Right- 
eousness dispels its darkness, and quickens all its ener- 
gies into spiritual life and action. The commencement 
and progress of extensive revivals of religion, resemble 
also the coming on of the vernal season — noiseless, 
energetic, and transforming. At first, the sunny hill of 
Zion feels the sacred influence and glows with the 
beauties of holiness. At length, surrounding regions 
begin to catch the reviving energy and bud and blossom 
like the rose. Communities thus visited, put on a new 
aspect. They wear the features of light, of love, and 
joy. They reflect some faint image of the Paradise 
above. But although the vernal renovation of the face 
of the earth, resembles in some respects the renewal 
of the hearts of men by the Holy Spirit, yet this resem- 
blance entirely fails in view of the relative importance 
of the two. Utterly destructive as a perpetual winter 
would be to the temporal interests and happiness of 
man ; yet an unvaried winter in his soul must destroy 
interests infinitely more valuable. Gloomy as would be 
our prospects, if winter still lingered on our plains, and 
the face of the earth were not renewed, yet un- 



SPRING. 341 

speakably more dreadful would be our condition — in- 
finitely more portentous would be our destiny, had we 
no ground to expect a renewal of our moral nature — 
were all hope cut off, of "a season of refreshing from the 
presence of the Lord. And how does the admitted fact 
of the surpassing importance of a moral or spiritual re- 
novation, affect christians ? It may be, that they would 
be shocked, were they to see the inferior importance 
they do practically attach to a revival of religion. Let 
it be supposed for a moment, that God had not the pres- 
ent season renewed the face of the earth — that the 
chill and desolate reign of winter still continued — and, 
that under circumstances thus gloomy and alarming, it 
were announced from heaven, that penitent, humble, 
and persevering prayer, should secure the reviving in- 
fluences of the sun, the renovation of the face of 
the earth, and the advancement of the season. Who 
would not pray ? Is there an individual who be- 
lieved the declaration, that would not be anxious to pray 
with the requisite temper ? Or, were there no new de- 
claration from heaven on the subject, and were God to 
bring about the circumstances supposed, not a person, 
perhaps, could be found who would not think, that spe- 
cial seasons of humiliation, fasting, and prayer were 
loudly called for ; and that too much time could not be 
employed, or too much zeal and earnestness evinced in 
beseeching the Most High to renew the face of the 
earth. In this view, how stands the christian's esti- 
mate of the value and necessity of those influences, 
which alone can renew the hearts of men, and prepare 
them for heaven ? And what is the chaff to the ivheat 9 
What is time to eternity ? What is the life of the body, 
to the life of the soul ? God has indeed, again, in great 
kindness, renewed the face of the earth, but the 
hearts of multitudes around us are unrenewed. He 
has caused spring once more in all its verdure, fresh- 
ness, and beauty to gladden the earth, but he leaves 
us to the dreary barrenness of spiritual winter. Spring 

29* 



342 spuing 

returns, but not to the souis of men. The earth rejoi- 
ces, but the ways of Zion mourn. Vernal showers 
descend to refresh and fertilize the earth ; but the Holy 
Spirit comes not down in its transforming influences 
like rain upon the mown grass, and as showers that 
water the earth. Nature renewed all around us, is 
sending up to heaven from unnumbered voices and 
altars, its anthems and its incense ; but no such offerings 
arise from new-born, broken, and contrite hearts ! The 
natural world is gratefully revived, but a world tying in 
wickedness is untouched by heavenly influences, and is 
sinking to that region, where there are no revivals ! Yet 
are christians affected by these considerations ? Now a 
spiritual spring is withholden, do they not practically 
say, that great efforts are not called for — that earnest, 
persevering, expectant prayer is not necessary — and 
that it is quite possible to be too zealous — too much 
engaged in seeking a religious revival ? And must it 
be so ? Shall christians be more concerned that inani- 
mate nature be renewed, than that immortal minds be 
regenerated ? Shall they seek with more importunity 
those genial influences which give to the earth its beauty 
and fmitfulness, than such as renew the souls of men 
into ihe image of Jehovah, and make them bear fruit 
unto life eternal ? There is enough in the moral con- 
dition of those with whom they are associated as sojourn- 
ers below, to affect their hearts. Considerations are 
continually before them, sufficient to excite their prayers 
and efforts for the eternal good of perishing sinners. 
May they yield to these considerations. May they 
open their own souls to holy influences from above, and 
then labor to bring others under their new-creating 
power. 

"Come Sun of Righteousness, and bring 

Thy soul-reviving- ray — 
This moral winter shalf be spring; — 

This darkness cheerful day!" 

III. Another reflection connected in the pious mind 
with the present season, respects the blessedness of that 



SPRING. 343 

approaching day, when the earth shall be full of the 
knowledge of the Lord. Then, indeed, in the highest 
sense, the face of the earth will be renewed. 
Then, the wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad; 
and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose. 
It shall blossom abudantly, and rejoice with joy and 
singing. Then, by means of the more general, and 
powerful effusions of the Holy Spirit, one universal re- 
vival shall prevail all over the earth. Then its curse 
for a season shall be repealed, and its moral ruins 
repaired. Some limited portions of our world, have 
hitherto exhibited an imperfect type of what the whole 
will be amidst the full orbed glories of that latter day. 
So far as moral appearances can be shadowed forth by 
natural, the existing aspect of the visible creation, may 
aid our apprehensions of those unrivalled charms, which 
will then clothe this fallen world. Nor are we forbid- 
den to expect that even nature itself will then wear 
new features of loveliness. That " all seasons and 
their change," if they are not alike pleasant, will then 
be doubly pleasing. But all the enchantments of the 
scenery which Jehovah now spreads before us, must 
nevertheless be considered as an imperfect emblem of 
those beauties of holiness which his Spirit shall create, 
and which shall adorn, and glow in the noon-tide splen- 
dor of millennial day. And yet enough may be seen 
on every side, to awaken a train of associations which 
shall carry the minds of christians forward in fervent 
anticipation of the universal prevalence, and more com- 
manding sway of their religion over the hearts and 
lives of men. By what they behold scattered up and 
down on the face of the earth, now clad in the bright 
and cheerful attire of spring, they can scarcely fail to 
glance their thoughts forward with an increased warmth 
of expectancy to 

" Scenes surpassing fable, and yet true — 

Scenes of accomplished bliss, which who can see, 
Though but in distant prospect, and not feel 
His soul refreshed with foretaste of the joy." 



344 SPRING. 

Nor can it be doubted, that truly religions persons must 
be led by the associations connected with the vernal 
scenery now stretched out before them, to glance a 
thought still farther — to look within the veil — to con- 
template that better world, 

"Where everlasting spring abides, 
And never-withering flowers." 

Oh ! if God clothes this scene- of transgression with so 
much that is beautiful — if he throws around his rebel- 
lious offspring, scenery so delightful ; what ineffable 
charms must fill the heavenly world — what enchanting 
scenery must forever spread its attractions before its 
sinless inhabitants ! And if too, so much good is be- 
stowed in a world that is under a curse, what may not 
the redeemed expect to enjoy in those high abodes, 
where almighty wisdom and goodness will be forever 
employed to make them blessed ! 

But I speak to some who have no part in the inheri- 
tance of the saints. Nature around them is renewed, 
but they remain unchanged. Animate and inanimate 
nature is daily sending up to heaven its anthems and its 
incense, but they have no heart to join in the service. 
Their heart remains a rock of ice, untouched— unmelt- 
ed. In the atmosphere of sin, it continues to gather 
around it the ices of the pole, though amidst the full 
orbed blaze of the Sun of Righteousness. In vain to 
them has spring returned. For it neither produces in 
their minds a devout recognition of God's benevolent 
agency in the change they behold, nor sends their 
thoughts forward in grateful anticipation of more glori- 
ous changes hereafter to be witnessed in the moral con- 
dition of our world. Least of all, does it create a 
delightful antepast of heaven. To them, the most pleas- 
ing and interesting associations of the season, are un- 
known. They feel not the moral power of its instruc- 
tions. There is no resemblance between their hearts, 
and the face of nature abroad. The scenery around 



SPRING. 345 

them is beautiful, promising, joyful — but within all is 
deformity, hopelessness, sorrow. Abroad, is a faint 
emblem of heaven, within are the real elements of hell. 
But why need I describe their condition ? You know 
it — you feel it already. Rather let me then, exhort 
you to abandon it. O, seek those heavenly effusions, 
which shall melt the icy obduracy of your hearts. Open 
your souls to the influence of that Sun, whose beams 
alone can quicken them into light, and life, and joy, 
and fruitfulness. Be it the earnest cry of each of your 
hearts to the ear of Heaven O, thou who renewest the 
face of the earth, renew my heart. O, thou who dost 
make earth reflect some resemblance of heaven, make 
my dark and polluted soul reflect some image of thy holy 
self. Do this from the heart, and your souls will feel 
a quickening power. They shall feel the sway of 
spiritual winter no longer ; but they shall present to 
the eye of the Eternal, a scene more lovely and attrac- 
tive than that which his hand has spread out before us 
in his visible works. Oh, do this, and you shall ere 
long be transplanted to 

That happy world — divine abode 

Whore spring* eternal reig-ns — 
And perfect day — the smile of God — ■ 

Fill all the heavenly plains ! 



SERMON XXVII. 



Autumn. 
JOEL I. 12. 

ALL THE TREES OF THE FIELD ARE WITHERED^ 

There are very few who contemplate entirely with- 
out emotion, the great lineaments of nature. Its diver- 
sified features which are continually spread around us 
in the abrupt precipice, the swelling mountain, the sweep 
of forests, the flow of rivers, and the rush of cataracts, 
excite their appropriate emotions in almost every breast. 
Nor does that diversity of appearances with which the 
shifting seasons clothe the face of nature, leave our com- 
mon sensibilities untouched. Now these deep and va- 
ried lines which Omnipotence has stamped on the as- 
pect of creation, and the ever-varying hues with which 
it is invested by the successive seasons, are much suit- 
ed, and no doubt, designed to exert a happy influence 
on the moral and religious character of man. The 
mind that regards these, can scarcely fail to perceive in- 
dications of that benevolent power by whom the uni- 
verse was reared, and by whom it is perpetually up- 
held. But if there are comparatively few whose minds 
are too gross to relish this magnificent display of crea- 
tive might and benignity, the number is sadly otherwise, 
who utterly forego the pleasure and benefit of a reli- 
gious view of earthly scenes. For the imagination may 



AUTUMN. 347 

be interested, and the taste gratified, by a survey of 
scenes every way suited to lift the thoughts from na- 
ture up to iu ader?.ble Author — of scenes impressively 
significant of his power, and wisdom, and goodness, and 
yet the mind escape every impression of a religious 
character. How many, surrounded by the grandest 
views in the field of nature, have permitted their 
thoughts to riot in the exuberance of intellectual grati- 
fication, but yet have not suffered them to terminate in 
him who has given grandeur and beauty to objects, and 
to minds capacity for enjoying these qualities ? Indeed 
we may hold communion with nature in all its various 
walks, and yet, if our minds have not a spiritual tone ; 
a religious bias — if they have no communion with its 
glorious Author, such an intercourse will not of itself 
create this pious disposition. The remark which the 
much admired Alison, has, somewhere made, that "all 
the noblest convictions and confidences of religion, may 
be acquired in the simple school of nature," is then as 
grossly erroneous in sentiment, as it is exquisitely beau- 
tiful in language. 

If this be true, what benefit has Revelation conferred on 
man ? If this be true, what advantage hath the chris- 
tian over the benighted pagan ? Then send back mil- 
lions who are now rejoicing in the hopes of the gospel, 
to the darkness of heathen night, that they may gain 
still nobler " convictions and confidences." No ! It 
was not in " the simple school of nature," that an 
apostle acquired that confidence which enabled him to 
sav — / am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor 
angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things pres- 
ent, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any 
creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of 
God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Oh no ! " The 
noblest convictions and confidences of religion" — the 
faith, and hope, and holiness of religion, are to be ac- 
quired no where but in "the school of Christ." 

The volume of nature does, indeed, disclose in legi- 



348 AUTUMN. 

ble characters the majesty and might, the wisdom anc? 
benevolence of Jehovah. But its disclosures are made 
to eyes that see not. A voice too from all his works, 
proclaims that the magnificent system of nature is his 
temple. But the proclamation is made to ears that hear 
not. Now to such minds — minds less religious than 
philosophical — less studious of the word of God than 
the book of nature, the contemplation of natural phe- 
nomena, yields no spiritual advantage. Having rarely 
contemplated the Most High, except through the medi- 
um of his works — having never seriously studied his 
character and their own, as exhibited at the cross of 
Christ — having never learned humility at the feet of 
Jesus, they bring to the survey of the visible creation, 
minds unfitted through ignorance and pride, either to 
taste the purest pleasure, or to receive the highest ben- 
efit of such a survey. 

" Not so the mind that has been touched from heaven, 
And in the school of sacred wisdom taught 
To read the works of God." 

Such as have their taste formed from the study of 
divine truth — from the contemplation of the sublimities 
and beauties of holiness, yield instinctively to the reli- 
gious tendency of nature, and make its " simple school," 
not the place to learn the holy mysteries of religion, 
but the means of aiding their progress in " the school 
of Christ," where alone our fallen race can be educated 
for heaven. Thus disciplined and directed by divine 
grace, men are prepared safely and usefully to look 
into the book of nature. They may indeed, too much 
neglect its instructions and too rarely turn their minds 
to its survey. While the mere philosopher makes it 
the only source from which he derives his religious 
" convictions and confidences," the christian may like- 
wise err in foregoing the assistance it might yield him 
in his spiritual course. Disciples in the christian school, 
may too often forget, that he who appears so glorious 



AUTUMN. 349 

in his word, is to be seen also in his works — that he 
who new-creates us by his Holy Spirit, renews the face 
of the earth. That he who enables us to grow in grace ? 
causes the trees and herbage of the field to shoot forth 
in all the luxuriance, and bloom, and maturity of sum- 
mer. And that he who makes us all fade as a leaf 
makes also the grass wither, the flowers fade, and 
vegetation languish and decay. While, then, we are 
carefully to guard against the habit of contemplating 
Jehovah only through the medium of his works, we 
should be equally careful not to lose the lessons which 
these works teach. If, with a spiritual cast of mind, we 
look around us upon the marks of an eternal poiver and 
Godhead in the things that are made, we shall be able 
in a sense which the poet never dreamed of, to find 

" Tongues in trees, books in running brooks, 
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing," 

To such a communion with nature, we are invited by the 
freshness and novelty which clothe the changing year. 
And now, when autumn spreads about us its garniture 
of gloom, when all the trees of the field are 
withered, and images of decay and dissolution meet 
our every gaze, shall we not seek to be instructed by 
the scene, and yield to the train of reflections it is so 
much calculated to awaken ? Although a view of na- 
ture in its present dress, has no power in itself to work 
a moral change in the mind — to cause every unkind pas- 
sion to fall with the leaves that are falling around — al- 
though it would be impiety thus to transfer the new- 
creating energies of the Spirit of God, to the simple 
contemplation of his works — there is, nevertheless, much 
in an autumnal scene and its associations, to excite in 
the serious mind salutary impressions. 

Moved by the hand of God, our earth has again grad- 
ually retired to that part of its orbit, which brings us 

30 



350 AUTUMN. 

away from the burning influence of solstitial skies to 

where 



serener blue 



With golden light enlivened, wide invests 
The happy world." 

The same hand which at first stretched out the north 
over the empty place and hung the earth upon nothing , 
still guides all its motions with unwearied power, wis- 
dom, and faithfulness. Instead of that gradual, con- 
stant, and unperceived change, from the blazing noon 
of summer to the mild and cheerful beams of autumnal 
suns, the same almighty hand might have hurled us in- 
stantly from the rage of vertical suns, to the chill and 
dreary empire of wintry skies. Instead, too, of that 
ever new, and ever varying dress with which the cli- 
mates and seasons clothe the earth, he who impels and 
directs its revolutions, might have given it one perpetual 
season, and enrobed it in one unchanging attire ! And 
are there no tokens of divine power and faithfulness in 
the existing aspect of things, to affect the devout mind, 
to excite and strengthen its admiring gratitude and con- 
fiding love, towards him who with so much wisdom and 
kindness, orders the times and seasons in such a man- 
ner, as to secure to us only the grateful influences of 
change ? Let us then, speak to the earth and it shall 
teach us. For a teaching voice from every object that 
betokens the return of autumn, calls aloud upon us in 
accordance with divine Revelation, to fear and adore — 
to love and trust that glorious Being whose understand- 
ing is infinite, whose power is irresistible, and whose 
mercy and faithfulness stretch beyond the skies ! 

The marks of decay and change, which everywhere 
meet the view, suggest the thought of our own resem- 
blance to the fading scenery. He who causes the sea- 
sons to change and the herbage of the field to wither 
a«ld die, will soon change our countenances and send us 
away. The vigor that nerves the arm of manhood, and 
the bloom that mantles in the cheek of childhood and 



ANTUMN. 351 

youth, will speedily be dried up, and fade like the per- 
ishing leaves of the forest. At the present season, it 
would seem that the cry which the prophet heard in 
vision, must break upon us in our every walk — All flesh 
is grass, and all the goodliness thereof as the flower of 
the field. The grass withereth, the flower fadeth, be- 
cause the Spi?~it of the Lord bloweth upon it. Surely 
the people is grass. It is when the fading vestments of 
autumn are outspread before us, that nature, if ever, 
addresses us in the language of the bible — Dust thou 
art, and unto dust shalt thou return. 

The same view which so forcibly teaches us the les- 
son of our own frailty, reminds us of the transient and 
unsubstantial character of earthly good. The verdure 
and bloom of summer, blasted and destroyed by the 
frosts of autumn, have an existence not more precarious 
and shortlived, than the most certain and enduring hap- 
piness which springs from earth. Its hopes are sooner 
blasted — its prospects sooner fade, than the most fragile 
flower that sinks beneath the reign of autumn. Come, 
then, my hearers, and look into this " grave of the year" 
where its blossoms, and its verdure, and its fruits lie 
mingled and perishing together ; and be taught, that 
you have constructed the edifice of your happiness too 
low, if it is built below the skies. Learn here to fix 
your' hopes beyond the reach of earthly changes. 

Again, the features of change and decay which the 
present season wears, not only remind us of our per- 
sonal frailty and the vanity of worldly expectations, but 
they bid us learn the mutability of all terrestrial objects. 
The earth has wheeled only a few diurnal rounds, since 
all the freshness and verdure, the fragrance and melody 
of summer, gladened the walks of nature. Now all its 
cheerful green has faded into a dull and mournful hue ;. 
the breeze that sighs through the leafless wood, no 
longer pours the balmy breath of summer, the music of 
the grove is hushed, and all the trees or the field 
are withered. The earth shall sweep a few more 



'352 AUTUMN. 

annual circuits, and all its present population shall have 
faded away and perished, like the foliage now fading, 
falling, and dying around us. Nor are the monuments 
of arts and learning scarcely less mutable and transient 
than they who rear them. 

" We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works 
Die too. The deep foundations that we lay, 
Time ploughs them up, and not a trace remains. 
We build of what we deem eternal rock — 
A future age asks where the building stood." 

Nor is this all. The earth whose revolutions measure 
the lapse of ages, and whose surface is the scene of in- 
cessant changes and death, has its destined periods 
measured out in the counsels of heaven, and will one 
day finish its career. It shall become old as doth a gar- 
ment, and be folded up and changed. It is reserved 
unto fire against the day of Judgment and perdition of 
ungodly men. It shall then be dissolved. Its massy 
pillars shall be melted down with fervent heat, and the 
whole system of material things be wrapped in the un- 
changing gloom of perpetual annihilation. Come, then, 
and amidst the surrounding scenery of the present sea- 
son, give up your minds to the full impression of its 
solemn and instructive suggestions. While you behold 
in this " grave of the year," an emblem of the approach- 
ing " funeral pile of nature," will you not be led to se- 
cure a right to the tree of life'''' that fadeth not, that you 
may enter in through the gates into the city which hath 
foundations ? 

Again. He- who produces and will survive all 
changes in the material universe, is forever the same. 
God is immutable. He is Jehovah, and therefore 
changes not. The flowers fade — the leaf dies — the 
trees wither — one generation is urged onward by anoth- 
er to the grave — empires rise and fall — worlds are 
brought into being, perform their destined revolutions, 
and are swept away, but God remains unaltered. He 
will remain just, merciful, and holy. His purposes of 



AUTUMN. 353 

grace will never be varied. His promises of pardon, 
reconciliation, and immortal blessedness to the believing 
penitent, will forever be sure ! Here then, amidst im- 
pressive emblems of a passing world — amidst scenes in 
which the mind must instinctively labor to repose on 
some object that shall be safe and abiding, when 

" Change shall cease, and time shall be no more ;" 

here, where nothing seems constant but vicisitude ; 
nothing to have an abiding life, but death, learn the 
preciousness of the single consideration, that Jeho- 
vah is unchangeable. That amidst the fickleness of 
earthly friendships, the dissolution of earthly attach- 
ments, and the disappointments and vanities of secular 
avocations, we may have one friend who is immutable, 
permanent and perfect. A friend who will be such at 
that last day of final account, when all other friendships 
will avail nothing ! 

This brings me to the last thought I designed to no- 
tice as the peculiar suggestion of the season. Autumn 
is the season of ingathering. It is the harvest-time of 
the year. And whose mind does not yield to the train 
of associations it awakens ? Whose mind does not re- 
cur to the scene of final retribution — the harvest of the 
world ? There is a season approaching of which the 
one we now witness is a faint emblem. For the Soti 
of man shall send forth his angels, and they shall gather 
out of his kingdom all things that offend, and them who 
do iniquity ; and shall cast them into a furnace of fire 
— there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth. Then 
shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the king- 
dom of their father. To the solemnities of that period 
— to the affecting scene it will unfold to an intelligent 
universe, the serious mind will be turned by what is 
taking place around us at the present season. Some- 
thing is every day transpiring abroad in the cultivated 
fields of nature, which is to have a dreadful parallel at 
the harvest of the world. When the great Husbandman 

30* 



354 AUTUMN. 

shall direct the wheat to he gathered into the garnery 
but the chaff to be burned with unquenchable fire. 

To a very few concluding remarks, may I solicit the 
particular attention of all present, who are conscious of 
never having yielded to the new-creating power of di- 
vine Grace, and of thus having acquired a taste for the 
beauties of holiness ? Some of you, my friends, I doubt 
not, have a keen relish for the grandeur and loveliness 
of natural scenery. You linger with fondness around 
"each gentle and each awful scene," and delight to 
watch the ever-varying dress w T hich nature wears. Now, 
I would not turn away your eyes from such views. I 
would not deaden your sensibilities to such enjoyments. 
I would not " seal up the book of nature." But I 
would caution you as you value your highest temporal 
felicity and the beatitudes of heaven, not to expect or 
endeavor to acquire " the noblest convictions and con- 
fidences of religion in the simple school of nature." 
Sinners have not in that school, been brought back to 
God, and educated for a holy heaven. Sinners in that 
school have not attained a spirit of mind, which opens to 
them the largest and purest source of pleasure and ad- 
vantage, even in the survey of that magnificent system 
of material signs in which they reside." God in Christ 
is the medium — the door through which sinners come 
in to take the most useful and delightful view of the won- 
derful temple of nature. If you enter not through this 
door, a dull obscurity will hang over the goodly struc- 
ture, and shut out from your view its loveliest forms and 
most attractive features. Let me, then, address each 
of you in the language of the christian poet — 

"Acquaint thyself with God, if thou wouldst taste 
His works. Admitted once to his embrace, 
Thou shalt perceive, that thou wast blind before — 
Thine eye shall be instructed, and thine heart 
Made pure, shall relish with divine delight, 
Till then unfelt, what hands divine have wrought." 

But I have a higher object than your present gratifi- 



AUTUMN. 355 

cation. Your deathless souls are concerned in this 
matter. It would be a cruel service, could it be ac- 
complished, to scatter flowers along your path down to 
hell. The decay and dissolution apparent in the vege- 
table world, teach you that like them your bodies are 
shortly to decay and die. The mutability and vicissi- 
tudes of earthly scenes and objects so strikingly epito- 
mized in the present aspect of nature, while they remind 
you that you cannot safely build on earth, refer you to 
the great and solemn fact, that he who presides over, 
and occasions every change, is the same yesterday, to- 
day, and forever. Consider this, all ye that forget God. 
If he will be eternally holy, must not your hearts — your 
tastes, and dispositions be changed; before you can en- 
joy him as he is ? If God will be eternally just, then 
unless you become believing penitents, he is under , the 
holy necessity of his nature, to exclude you forever 
from heaven. But oh ! he will, likewise, be eternally 
merciful, and therefore under an equally strong neces- 
sity, to receive every returning penitent to the full frui- 
tion of his presence and glory. Will you not, then, 
bring yourselves to the point, where you may confident- 
ly wait to be made the subjects of this necessity? 

Now, with the scenery before you, whose associations 
must carry the thoughts forward to the harvest of the 
world, I ask, that you will suffer the familiar descrip- 
tions of that event in the word of God, to come along 
with these associations, and rest upon your minds in 
their naked impressiveness. Be not reluctant to have 
your minds filled, and your hearts affected with consid-. 
erations of that day of unalterable decisions. Yield to 
the sway of such considerations. Become submissive 
and humble petitioners at the throne of mercy. Be- 
come spiritual disciples of your final Judge. And may 
God forbid, that eternity should witness your unavailing 
lamentation — The harvest is past, the summer is ended,, 
and we are not saved ! 



SERJIlOtf XXVIII 



The fleeting Pageantry of Earth* 
1 CORINTHIANS VII. 31. 

THE FASHION OF THIS WORLD PASSETH AWAY. 

Scarcely can a contemplative mind bestow a mo- 
ment's attention upon the scene around us, and not 
perceive abundant evidence of the fact here announced. 
And yet, perhaps, no fact shows more plainly how un- 
substantial is the very broadest and firmest foundation 
on which man can rear his structure of earthly good. 
The apostle, in stating this fact, seems to yield to world- 
ly men all they pretend to claim, and to insist only on 
things which they are unable to deny. There are many 
things, which might be truly affirmed of the world, which 
would go directly to narrow the ground on which they 
who seek their portion here, endeavor securely and 
comfortably to rest. The declaration might be made, 
supported by Scripture and all experience, that the 
world is base and worthless. It hangs a depressing 
weight on the deathless and originally elevated facul- 
ties of man. Its tendency is to bring him down from 
high and ennobling contemplations, and make him grov- 
el in low and profitless pursuits. To this mortifying 
characteristic, it might be added, that the fashion of 
this world is deceitful. It invites to delude ; it flat- 
ters to betray ; it " leads to bewilder, and dazzles to 



THE FLEETING, &C. 357 

blind." Its promises are never fulfilled. Its boastings 
always prove empty and vain. The fashion of this 
world might, likewise, be pronounced unsatisfying. It 
evidently has no elements that fit it to meet the desires 
and wants of man. Manifestly it is not of a nature to- 
reach and bound the mighty cravings of deathless 
minds. Evidence of this comes up before us in un- 
numbered convincing forms, whenever we turn to con- 
template the ranks of this world's votaries. Their dis- 
appointment, dissatisfaction, and disgust are too legibly 
written in their features, and too plainly uttered by their 
conduct, to render it necessary for further proof to go 
behind the scene, and examine there the base apparatus 
of worldly pleasures. It might with equal truth be aver- 
red, furthermore, that the fashion of this world is 
inconstant and fluctuating. It is like a ship upon the 
heaving and restless expanse of the ocean. It affords 
no fixed and stable foundation to rest upon. When its 
votaries most need support, it gives way beneath them, 
The more exclusively they cling to it, the more violent- 
ly they are tossed, and the more giddy and sickened 
they become. Indeed, of all its humiliating character- 
istics, the fashion of this world might, with the 
least possible ground for contradiction, be declared at 
enmity against God. h draws the heart from God. It 
invites and claims a confidence which God Only de- 
serves. It opposes the tendency of his grace. It har- 
dens the minds of men against the influence of all the 
various methods which heaven employs to transform and 
save them. It estranges them from the service of their 
Maker, and urges them along the way of death. 

Now all of these undeniable characteristics of the 
present evil world, are waived by the apostle here, and 
he only insists on the single fact, that its fashion pas- 
seth away. Be it, that it is not what all good men have 
pronounced it, worthless, illusory, unsatisfying, unstable 
and sinful. Let it be for once admitted, if you will, 
that it is not so utterly incapable of meeting the wants. 



358 THE FLEETING 

and .blessing the souls of men. Yet thus much you 
must acknowledge, that it will not last— that it passeth 
away. Whatever good it yields must be transient. Its 
pleasures must cease. Its honors must fade. Its splen- 
dor will be soon nothing but dust. The finery you 
may fancy it now wears, will in a short time be finery 
out of date. All its absorbing interests, its heart-stiring 
topics, its splendid projects, and its current literature, 
will shortly be among things long since forgotten. Its 
fashion, that which invests it with a temporary impor- 
tance, will in a little time have passed away, and noth- 
ing will be left to adorn and dignify the relics of a worn- 
out world. It will all be worthless then. It cannot be 
new modeled — refashioned, thrown into the crucible 
and melted into something still brilliant, and beautiful, 
and valuable. For it is only an appearance, a shadowy 
form, a gilded pageant, a pictured show; and when 
once passed, it cannot be summoned back — when once 
vanished, it cannot be conjured up into being again ; 
when once it dissolves into its own airy nothing, beneath 
the eye that gazes upon it from the world of eternal 
realities, all its seeming substance, all its unreal splen- 
dor, will be irrecoverably and forever gone. To those 
who shall view 7 it from that world, (and none shall es- 
cape that future retrospection,) it will appear like the 
incidents and forms that constitute the dreams of a night ; 
and it will occasion only surprise, that it could have 
been regarded as a reality — much more as a reality, 
valuable and desirable to beings formed for the sublime 
verities of immortality— the unsearchable wonders of 
eternal blessedness ! 

In adding something further, in order to illustrate the 
expression in the text, it might seem matter rather for 
curious, than profitable inquiry, to what particular usa- 
ges among men the apostle alludes. It may be allowa- 
ble however to observe, that it has been supposed, that 
allusion is here had to a theatre, where the scheme, (as 
the word strictly means which we have translated fash-- 



PAGEANTRY OF EARTH. 359 

ion,) the scheme, the image, the form, the representa- 
tion, is wholly changed. Or it may be read the scene 
of this world passeth away. The actors in a play- 
sustain various characters. The scenes are perpetually 
shifting. Some actors are prominent as heroes of the 
play, while others lurk behind the scenes as obscure 
characters — and all of them according to the custom of 
the ancients, were masked. At length, the curtain 
drops, and the scenes are over. This truly presents a 
very striking picture of the world — a changing scene 
that passeth away. It matters not how important 
or unimportant may be the parts which men act, they 
have their little space to fill, their little period to live, 
and then they vanish from the scene, and others come 
to bustle their little hour, and follow the long train. This 
leads me to observe, that the text may be read as if it 
were written — the pageant of this world passeth 
away. So it has been read by some able expositors of 
the sacred pages. The world is only a show, a specta- 
cle, a procession. Like a splendid parade through the 
streets, it is perpetually shifting its aspect to the eye of 
observers, and is ever hastening to disappear from their 
most eager and interesting gaze. The image, which 
naturally arises before the mind as we read the text, is 
that of a gorgeous procession, such as was common in the 
age of the apostle. A triumph, such as sometimes was 
decreed by the Roman senate to a victorious general. 
Numberless glittering objects swiftly pass the eye. The 
pompous show moves along with its burnished armor, 
blazing in the noontide ray ; and with the deafening 
acclamations of the infatuated crowd, who join the mov- 
ing myriads to celebrate the exploits of the hero, as he 
passes in solemn dignity along the festive streets. But 
how soon has it all passed by. We look again and it is 
gone. The burning splendor is quenched. The thun- 
dering shouts are hushed. All the gaudy visions of the 
day are vanished. Not a movement, not a relic, not 
a vestige, not a swelling note, continues to record the 



360 THE FLEETING 

magificent parade of the short-lived day. You have 
all witnessed a scene allied to this, in those moving spec- 
tacles which, a few years since, from one extremity of 
the land to the other, welcomed the Nation's Guest. 
You gazed at the procession that thronged our streets. 
Every eye and every heart was turned to the magnificent 
vanity. A few hours weighed down the declining day, 
and spread a blank pall over the whole absorbing pageant. 
The voice of welcome, the shouts of revelry, and the 
swell of martial sounds, with all the constrained dignity 
and glittering accompaniments of the scene, ceased and 
passed away with the departed day. It is now fading 
from the recollection, or remembered only as the mock 
parades of children. Thus passeth away the fash- 
ion OF THE WORLD. 

What is the deepest and strongest impression that 
seizes and absorbs the mind, as you travel through the 
history of other days ? Is it not, that it is all gone by ? 
that it is all a mere pageant ? that it is all like a night- 
dream or a day-fancy, that passes through the mind and 
vanishes ? Where are the wonders of the old world ? 
There was much vain show among those who lived be- 
fore the flood. The world that then was abounded with 
solemn pageants and splendid vanities ; but they passed 
away and disappeared, just like the mighty waters that 
overwhelmed them. What has become of all the proud 
schemes and enterprises, the heaven-daring exploits and 
earth-appalling achievements, the works and the tri- 
umphs of the ages that followed ? They too have vanished 
in the flood of years that have been pouring their ceaseless 
tide into the ocean of eternity. Yes, all the long pro- 
cession of earth's generations, for half a century of cen- 
turies, with their towers, and temples, and cities has 
gone by, a vanished pageant, with only a few relics left, 
as way-marks in the course of time ; to remind us that 
the procession passed, and is no more ! What an af- 
fecting illustration of the text, does such a scene present 
to the imagination. Who can contemplate such a pro- 



PAGEANTRY OF EARTH- 361 

cession, in which some hundred thousand millions of 
our race join, with all their works, and purposes, and 
plans, and pleasures, and pains, passed and passing 
away, and not forcibly realize the truth, that the pa- 
geant OF THIS WORLD PASSETH AWAY ? 

The limited experience of every individual, that has 
lived a few years in the world, affords a measured op- 
portunity of perceiving the propriety of this representa- 
tion which the apostle has given of the world. He that 
has lived to the period of three score and ten, has seen 
most of the pageants of his day go by. Ask him con- 
cerning the distinguished actors of his youth — those 
who then were most conspicuous in the procession — 
those who glittered most in the train — those who filled 
the largest place in the ranks of his contemporaries, and 
he will tell you, that they have all long since passed 
away. And the retrospection, to which such inquiry 
leads, will call forth the exclamation, alike characteristic 
of age and experience : " Oh, all is a passing spectacle. 
All is an empty pageant. All is only a shifting scene." 
Surely every man walketh in a vain show. Surely they 
are disquieted in vain. He heapeth up riches, and 
Jcnoweth not who shall gather them. 

In regard to the meaning of the term world, as used 
by the apostle, in special reference to its transitory 
character, it may be needless to say more, than that it 
is briefly, and yet fully defined by another apostle, as 
the lust of the flesh, the hist of the eye, and the pride of 
life. So emphatically do these constitute the world 
which man naturally loves and pursues, that if you an- 
nihilate them, nothing is left for him. And yet these 
are as evanescent as a dream. The flesh must shortly 
lose those appetites, in the excitement and gratification 
of which, carnal men centre much of their happiness. 
The eye cannot long take delight in gazing at accumu- 
lated heaps of glittering treasures. And the pride of 
lift must become sick of ministering to the amusement 

31 



362 7HE FLEETING 

of its sluggish and sated powers. So that we may well 
exclaim with the poet — 

Oh death ! all eloquent, you only prove, 
What dust we doat on, when 'tis earth we love. 

But although these constitute substantially the world, of 
which the apostle speaks in the text, yet were we care- 
fully to inspect the empty pageant, we might discern 
under these three divisions of lust, and avarice, and 
pride, a countless variety of forms and modifications. 
We should behold in the procession worldly friendship, 
retiring into the cold distance and gradually losing it- 
self among objects forgotten on earth. In the melan- 
choly group of vanishing shadows, might be seen world- 
ly honor, fading and sinking into the obscure shades of 
oblivion. Worldly greatness might there be seen, 
shrinking into insignificancy and reluctantly hasting to 
hide itself beyond the reach of human remembrances. 
There too, among earth's fleeting glories, might be seen 
human learning, losing its unreal splendor, and mingling 
and disappearing in the undistinguished train of ignor- 
ance, folly, pride, and vanity. Yet nothing stays the 
moving show. The whole procession of all that is in 
the world, which men of the world chiefly seek and 
covet, is perpetually passing away. This is not a 
truth peculiar to one age alone. It is a universal and 
perpetual truth. It is a practical truth, too, infinitely 
important to every human being, yet resident where he 
can make his calling and election sure. It is not, as 
some may suppose, a mere splendid theme for rhetori- 
cal display a mere fanciful subject for magnificent 

declamation. Oh, no ! The truth, introduced to our 
notice by the apostle in the text, is one of those plain, 
practical, and momentous verities, upon our manner of 
regarding which, depends our everlasting well-being. 
We shall do well, therefore, to give earnest heed to 
some practical reflections which it obviously suggests. 
i . If the world is a passing pageant, we see how ig- 
norant worldlings actually are of the very things to 



PAGEANTRY OF EARTH. 363 

which they are devoted. If we do not know the world, 
as God represents it, we know nothing of it to any val- 
uable purpose. Now, they who are supremely engaged 
in its pursuit, cannot derive their knowledge of it from 
the Scriptures of God. Knowledge of it, thus gained, 
would effectually divert them from pursuits so profitless 
and ruinous. It is not denied that those who seek their 
portion in the things of time, have some correct views 
of worldly objects. They know how to compare these 
objects between themselves, and to estimate their rela- 
lative worth and importance. They may be careful and 
intelligent observers of men and things. They may be 
shrewd to discern character ; and quick to discover and 
use the means of attaining the possessions of earth. 
From a long and familiar intercourse with the world, 
and experience of its vicissitudes and fluctuations, they 
may be led to adopt a language in reference to it some- 
thing like the declaration in the text. Indeed, it is 
rather common for them to speak of the world as a stage, 
and the transactions of life as a farce. Yet after all, 
who does not see, that their knowledge of this sort is 
turned to no good account ? The truth is, they have 
no heartfelt experience of what they are so ready to 
speak. The man who is heaping up riches, while he 
cannot tell who shall gather them, can have no deep 
practical knowledge of the world. Equally destitute 
of this knowledge, is the aspirant after political place 
and emolument, while he is abundantly taught, that the 
next turn of the wheel may leave him stripped of every 
circumstance of political elevation and aggrandizement. 
No ! the man of ambition can have nothing of such 
knowledge, so long as he is attempting to build on the 
unstaying fluctuations of popular sentiment or worldly 
estimation. And how much does the voluptuary pos- 
sess of this knowledge, while he is panting and grasping 
after sensual delights just as earnestly, as if they were 
not in the hurrying procession — as if they were not a 
part of the passing pageantry of this world. Oh, 
worldly minds are utterly ignorant on this subject, be- 



364 THE FLEETING 

cause they will not be instructed by the word of God. 
If they would do this, they would soon see and feel how 
little the world can do for man. They would realize that, 
although the world can heap its fading honors upon him, 
can pour its wealth into his hands, and present him 
with the flowing cup of its pleasures, yet that these are 
nothing, because short-lived and evanescent as a dream. 
But they will not do it. And therefore they build on 
the \aiiishing waves, and are forever disquieted in vain. 
Let me say to you, who are just beginning to live in the 
world, learn the character and destiny of it from him 
who made it. Examine the bible on this point. Hear 
what the voice of Heaven decrees respecting it. Take 
such estimates, and form such sentiments of the world, 
as will bear to be reviewed in the light of eternity — as 
will give you satisfaction to examine ten thousand ages 
hence. 

2. It is impossible that the serious mind should not 
be led to reflect, in view of what has been said, on the 
signal grace of God in adapting the economy of his ad- 
ministrations to the wants of man in this passing world. 
How deplorable would be the condition of man to be 
thus placed in this land of shadows, to be made to see 
the vanishing nature of things below, and to perceive 
that what most naturally invites pursuit and solicits re- 
gard, is an empty pageant ; and yet to be left without 
the means of learning the way of safety, or in what con- 
sists his best interests. But man is not thus left. His 
exigencies, growing out of his condition and character, 
are anticipated and met in the gospel of the grace of 
God. That gospel discloses two momentous events be- 
fore him — death and judgment. That he is sympathiz- 
ing with the movements of the vanishing scene, and will 
soon have passed these points of unspeakable interest in 
his opening destiny. But how shall he pass them safe- 
ly? Not by occupying a conspicuous place in the pro- 
cession. He may move along in the pageant, clad in 
burnished gold, and yet not be prepared to pass in safe- 
ty these trying points. To answer this inquiry, there- 



PAGEANTRY OF EARTH. 365 

fore, the Saviour in the gospel takes us behind the scene, 
and shows us what transpires there after the pageant 
has passed. He shows us one who was distinguished, 
while the procession was moving onward, now lifting 
up his eyes being in torment ; and another who was 
scarcely known or regarded in the imposing train, now 
in the Paradise of God. By this disclosure, the Sa- 
viour teaches us, that he meets death and the destinies 
of the eternal world in safety, who is faithful in the cir- 
cumstances allotted him here. It is not he that is cloth- 
ed in fine linen, and fares sumptuously every day, that 
comes to his end in peace ; but he that is clothed with 
humility, and patiently confiding in the divine mercy, 
bears the sufferings, and discharges the duties of life 
with uncomplaining submission and cheerful gratitude. 
In a word, the gospel teaches us that he is the safe man 
in the midst of danger, who is the wise man in the 
midst of folly — who, while others build on the sand and 
are whelmed in ruin, builds his house on a rock. The 
floods may come, the waves may dash, the winds may 
blow, the storm may beat ; but planted on the Rock of 
ages, he shall safely stand through everlasting ages- 
While others are passing away from the scenes of time 
into outer and endless darkness, he doeth the will of 
God, and abideth forever a pillar in his holy temple 
above. 

3. The subject strongly prompts the reflection, how 
deeply guilty and deluded are those who obstinately cleave 
to the world as their portion. God has forbidden it. 
Love not the world. Lay not up for yourselves treas- 
ures on the earth. His providence utters a loud and 
impressive remonstrance against it. All its dispensations 
go to drive men from the world, as their portion and 
rest. While they are endeavoring to be pleased and 
satisfied with the pageant as it passes along, the meth- 
ods of his providence, in severe and mortifying ways, 
are loudly proclaiming to them, that this is not their 
rest, it is polluted. All experience concurs with the 

31* 



366 THE FLEETING 

word and providence of God, and warns men not to 
lean upon the earth. No one has been able to lean up- 
on it long. No one has ever derived more than a mo- 
mentary gratification from the passing show. It has 
pierced them with numberless sorrows, while they have 
sought to find repose on it. It has vanished from their 
fond gaze at the moment its promises and its allurements 
were most cheering and attractive. And just so will it 
disappoint the guilty and infatuated multitude who are 
now trying to make it their rest, and to beguile the lit- 
tle space of mortal life of its tedium, by amusing them- 
selves with its imposing vanities. The truth is fixed ; 
the decree is irreversible, that the pageant of this 
world passeth away. The procession must move 
on, whether men sleep or wake ; whether they think or 
not; whether they are pleased or disquieted. Yes, the 
whole mighty spectacle is hasting away; and you, my 
hearers, who are following in the train, beguiled with 
the scene, and trifling with time, when it must soon be 
no more, may be considered by your fellow travellers in 
the great procession, sober, rational, intelligent, and vir- 
tuous; but the united testimony of scripture, providence, 
and experience, pronounces you any thing but consid- 
erate heirs of immortality — it declares you, with all 
your seeming care and prudence, miserable triflers, in- 
fatuated followers in the giddy train — wretched devo- 
tees of present idols. Wei), move on, ye victims of 
earth's imposing pageant ! If you will not hear the voice 
of reason, of conscience, and of God, pass along in the 
vanishing procession. But remember, another scene 
draws near. A scene which will oblige you to pause 
and think — -a scene to which all other solemnities are 
nothing. Behold, he, the Saviour, cometh with ten 
thousand of his saints to execute judgment upon all. 
Then, you will need no arguments — no earnest appeals 
of the preacher to convince you that the fashion of 
this world passeth away. You will need none to 
remind you of your present ignorance of the world, or 



PAGEANTRY OF EARTH. 367 

of your deep guilt and infatuation in cleaving to it. Yet 
even the scene of that final day will pass away, and with 
it will pass away with a great noise all created things. 
While from the throne of judgment will be seen, advan- 
cing to their seperate destinies, two long processions — 
the one, of those who knew, while the pageant op 

THIS WORLD WAS VANISHING AWAY, how tO WOtk OUt 

their own salvation, to the realms of everlasting life — 
the other, of those who made earth's passing scenes 
their portion, to the abodes of darkness and everduring 
despair ! Beloved hearer, in which of these processions 
will you have a place ? 



SERIUOft XXIX. 



Expostulation with Young Men. 

ZECHARIAH II. 4. 

RUN, SPEAK TO THIS YOtJNG MAN. 

The reason of the prophet's being here called a 
young man, does not appear obvious. It may have been 
owing to his condition as a learner, or to his docility of 
mind, or to his comparative inferiority to the angel with 
whom he conversed, or to the fact of his being but a 
youth in age. The latter appears the more probable 
reason. He was contemporary with Ezra, and actively 
co-operated with him in building the second temple* 
By a symbolical representation it was intimated to him 
that Jerusalem should be rebuilt. To make this inti- 
mation intelligible to him, and to relieve his mind from 
the perplexity into which it had been thrown, by the 
appearance of a man proceeding to measure Jerusalem 
with a measuring line, the angel that conversed with 
him, was requested by another angel to state more plain- 
ly the fact of Jerusalem's approaching prosperity. 
And behold the angel that talked with me went forth, 
and another angel went out to meet him, and said unto 
him — run, speak to this young man, s ay >ing, Jerusa- 
lem shall be inhabited as towns without walls for the 
multitude of men and cattle therein : For I, saith the 



EXPOSTULATION WITH YOUNG MEN. 36$ 

Lord, will be unto her a wall of fire round about, and 
will be the glory in the midst of her. The youth and 
inexperience of the prophet, doubtless, rendered this 
fuller statement of an important fact peculiarly seasona- 
ble and appropriate to his case. He needed to have 
his difficulties cleared up, his mistaken views rectified, 
and his whole mind guided by the suggestions of one 
who had a deeper insight into things, and larger discov- 
eries than himself. The hint thus given at this particu- 
lar time by the ministering spirit, it may be presumed, 
was of great and abiding service to the youthful seer. 
It met with singular adaptedness the precise posture of 
his mind. It cheered him with hopes, when he was 
agitated by fears. It taught him to look for good, when 
he was agitated by fears. It taught him to look for 
good, when he anticipated only evil. There was also 
at that time a special urgency even in the case of the 
prophet. The angel was bidden hasten to communi- 
cate to him the needful information — the timely hint — 
the friendly suggestion. It is characteristic of die young, 
especially of young men, to be precipitate, hasty in their 
decisions, and rash in their measures. What is done 
for their benefit, their relief and direction, requires to be 
done at the proper time. If that time be not seized 
upon, it is rarely ever done, and never done to so good 
a purpose. Young men are acquiring and fixing their 
habits, forming their opinions, establishing their charac- 
ter, and taking their ultimate direction for the present 
and the coming world. This is eminently true of young 
men resident in a community favored with more than 
ordinary measures of spiritual influences from above. 
At such times, every christian may well regard himself 
as required, not by an angel, but by him who is the 
Lord of angels, to suffer no favorable opportunity to 
pass unimproved, of addressing such young men as are 
within the circle of their acquaintance and daily obser- 
vation, on the concerns of their souls. The use, there- 
fore, which at present I wish to make of the text s is to 



370 EXPOSTULATION WITH YOUNG MEN. 

view it by way of accommodation, as pointing out the 
existing duty of my christian brethren towards young 
men ; or in other words, as the language which God 
addresses to his professed people. Run, speak to 
this young man. In thus accommodating the text 
with a view to illustrate and enforce a particular duty 
to a single class of the young, it will not be understood 
that christians owe them no other duties, or that the 
same duty is not required of them to every other class of 
their fellow men whom they may reasonably hope thus 
to benefit. Nor shall I be understood to imply in this 
way that the salvation of this class, is in itself more im- 
portant than that of any other. And yet there is enough 
of peculiarity in the circumstances of this one class of 
my hearers, to demand a separate consideration of the 
christian's special duty to them. For while their salva- 
tion is in itself no more important than that of others, 
there are more and greater obstacles in the way of it, 
than in the case of almost any other class of my hear- 
ers. They are reached by a mightier array of tempta- 
tions — they are inwardly more strongly prompted to 
yield to the force of such sinful incentives, and conse- 
quently have a less ready ear to heed the words of truth 
and soberness. They are less accessible to the influ- 
ence of pastoral labors. Either their avocations or their 
inclinations, or both united, prevent their attendance on 
the more special means of grace. The Sabbath, in the 
house of God, is the only time and place in which di- 
vine truth is brought distinctly before their minds. And 
then it is met and resisted by an obduracy and blind- 
ness which the avocations and pursuits of every suc- 
cessive week, go to perpetuate and increase. When 
six-sevenths of their time is spent far from God, and not 
a little of it amidst scenes and in engagements which 
God must abhor, what can the bare ministrations of the 
sanctuary be expected to accomplish towards bringing 
them home to God? Ah, they who unchecked by the 
admonitions and entreaties of friends, can sport on the 



EXPOSTULATION WITH YOUNG MEN. 371 

brink of ruin through the whole week, can unalarmed 
and unawakened by the voice of the preacher, trifle and 
drowse in the very gate of heaven on the Sabbath. Or 
if here and there one is drawn by the preached word 
to heed with solemn interest the concerns of the soul, 
what can keep alive that interest, what can chain the 
mind to this great subject through the busy week> if no 
christian's voice is heard amidst the ten thousand calls 
of business and pleasure, that never cease their inviting- 
tones ? Circumstanced, then, as young men very gen- 
erally are in our community, if they are ever brought to 
an experience of the truth, it must be through the sea- 
sonable, the judicious, the tender, the faithful hints and 
admonitions of those christians who daily mingle with 
them in the intimacies of friendship and the business of 
life. Specific directions as to the manner of conduct- 
ing this intercourse, cannot of course be here given. I 
cannot tell my christian brethren what to say to the 
young men of their acquaintance. But that christian 
who daily walks with God, will be taught and directed 
what to say and when to speak. It would be alike use- 
less and invidious for me to attempt to assign to indi- 
viduals the particular persons with whom it is their duty 
to converse relative to the concerns of their souls. I 
cannot forbear, however, to specify several classes of 
young men to whom the people of God may with great 
propriety be exhorted to speak. 

1. Speak to that young man, whom you see often 
resort to scenes of gross or fashionable dissipation. He 
has been gradually and insensibly led astray by the se- 
ductive and authoritative influence of example. He 
has heedlessly followed in the path of some apparently 
respectable profligate, until he has lost the perception of 
the odiousness of his places of resort, and at the same 
time almost the power of escaping from their polluting 
and debasing atmosphere. You have witnessed how 
secretly he has been drawn within the power of the de- 
structive vortex, and how feeble and unavailing are the 



372 EXPOSTULATION WITH YOUNG MEN. 

trasuccored efforts of his best purposes, to tear himself 
away from the absorbing abyss. His case is one of 
frightful jeopardy. The slightest downward impulse, or 
the withdrawment of a single remaining hold on his 
moral sensibilities, may be enough to place him beyond 
hope. But he yet has some vestiges of an unseared 
conscience. He yet feels the ties of natural affection. 
Approach him gently. Tell him not the whole story of 
his shame at once. Overwhelm him not with the sudden 
announcement of his lost reputation. Tell him rather, 
what he may be, than what he has become. Point out 
the way to character, to usefulness, to virtue and to God. 
You may advert to the half concealed shame and an- 
guish which his -'father feels on his account. You may 
speak of paternal hopes so often blasted, as to be nearly 
succeeded by utter despair. You may remind him of 
the silent tears and prayers of a mother, whose affec- 
tions still cluster around the son of her love, though 
scarcely a feature of earlier loveliness remains. He 
may be pointed to the downcast gaze and the burning 
cheek of her, who was but lately the beloved sister of 
his childhood, and is now no less lovely in her tears 
over his almost completed ruin. Above all, you may 
not forget to speak to him of one, more deserving re- 
gard than father, mother, or sister, who came into the 
world to save sinners. Speak to him of a Saviour's 
love, a Saviour's power, a Saviour's grace, a Saviour's 
willingness to pardon, to purify, and eternally save him. 
Speak often to that young man of a father, a moth- 
er, a sister, a Saviour's readiness to receive him to 
their embrace, the moment ho will forsake his perni- 
cious ways, and penitently return to virtue and piety. 
Speak often to that young man on these subjects. 
There is joy in heaven over one such who truly repents 
And forget not that he, who is the means cf converting 
the sinner from the error of his way, shall save a soul 
from death. 



EXPOSTULATION WITH YOUNG MEN. 373 

2. speak to that young man whom you often be- 
hold either restless or trifling in the house of God. 
His parents and connexions delight in the spiritual ser- 
vices of the sanctuary. They live on the faithful min- 
istration of divine truth. From early childhood he has 
been made familiar with the solemnities, and been taught 
the duties of public worship. He knows that holiness 
becomes God's house forever. Until he had nearly 
reached the stature of manhood, he was markedly at- 
tentive to the exterior decencies and proprieties of the 
consecrated place. So strongly was his mind affected 
by the example and instruction of parental faithfulness, 
and so just were his views of the demeanor becoming 
the place where God's name is recorded, his worship 
observed, and his truth preached, that he could not no- 
tice in any of the assembled worshipers without sur- 
prise and concern, the drcwse of listlessness, the smile 
of levity, or the motion of irksomeness. But now, how 
altered. What has wrought the change in him ? He 
still understands and observes the decencies of life, every- 
where else. He would not manifest unequivocal tokens 
of uneasiness, when you are speaking to him in private 
on a subject in which you evince a feeling of interest, 
and which he knows you consider deeply interesting to 
him. Yet in the house of God, not even the restraints 
of early education, and the still cherished sentiments of 
good breeding, prevent his evincing most decided marks 
of restlessness, when the preacher in sober earnestness 
and heartfelt concern, is speaking to him on subjects of 
everlasting moment to every child of Adam. He can 
send abroad a careless gaze after some object of diver- 
sion, in the very place where the scenes of heaven and 
hell, are continually brought to view. He can wear the 
smile of scorn and contempt, when all that is terrific in 
the denunciations, and all that is cheering in the prom- 
ises of Jehovah, is proclaimed to the guilty and perish- 
ing children of men. In him you may see how the 
truth preached, reveals the terrible power of the natural 

32 



374 EXPOSTULATION WITH YOUNG MEN. 

heart's depravity. But yet this same truth, which gives 
such a fearful developement to the innate corruption of 
his heart, is the only weapon by which it can be subdu- 
ed and removed, speak, then, dear brethren, to that 
young man. He will not utterly disregard you. He 
will not trifle when you speak to him of eternal solem- 
nities. He will not scornfully smile, when you tell him 
of God's everlasting anger against the ungodly. But 
should he even do all mis, he will not withdraw from 
your presence, and leave you while earnestly inviting 
him to come to the Saviour. 

3. speak to that young man, who is making the 
supposed difficulty of reconciling certain doctrines of 
the gospel with the well known character of man and 
the. properties of the human mind, an apology for neg- 
lecting the salvation of his own soul. Such difficulty 
is only a supposed one. To a mind rightly disposed, 
uo such difficulty is presented. A mind that loves and 
relishes the grand peculiarities of the gospel, perceives 
a perfect and delightful harmony between its doctrines 
and provisions, and the condition and character of man. 
And were it otherwise, did such a difficulty actually 
exist, it could furnish no adequate reason for a man's 
neglecting the salvation of his soul. The salvation of 
his soul would be no less important, and no less attain- 
able. Nor does that young man, who is so ready to 
suggest this difficulty, seriously believe it presents any 
hinderance to the success of his efforts to gain an inher- 
itance among the saved. He does not in his heart con- 
sider such an apology in any other light, than in that of 
a specious attempt to evade the force of urgent calls to 
duty. He knows in his own soul that it is only a vain 
effort of his wicked heart, to gain a temporary respite 
from the pressure of the most awful truths. What, if 
he cannot comprehend the deep things of God ? He 
knows that he is a sinner, that Christ died to save such, 
and that all are saved by him who penitently confide in 
his atoning merits for pardon and acceptance with God. 



EXPOSTULATION . WITH YOUNG MEN. 375 

Hasten to speak to that young man. He is in im- 
minent danger. He is resisting the truth by miserable 
shifts to evade its stern demands. He is attempting to 
turn aside the sword of the Spirit, speak to him and 
press the simple truth upon his heart and conscience- 
Be not afraid of the subiilty of his arguments. He has 
no confidence in them himself, why should you fear 
them ? Press the naked truth. It will prove mighty 
through God to the demolition of his seemingly strong 

hold. SPEAK THE TRUTH in love tO THAT YOUNG MAN, 

and he may love and bless you for it forever. He feels 
your power every time you thus speak to him. Every 
time you admonish him of his danger, he feels the utter 
rottenness of his firmest foundations. He feels every 
thing giving way — every thing sinking on which he rests. 
4. speak to that young man who has been strong- 
ly affected with a view of his condition as a lost sinner^ 
but is now again relapsing into a state of unconcern. 
You saw him formerly, it may be but recently, bowed 
down greatly under the oppressive consciousness of his 
sins. You heard from him the agonizing interrogatory. 
What must I do to be saved ? You heard him in the 
anguish of his spirit declare himself the greatest sinner 
this side of hell, and richly deserving a place there. 
You remember how unhesitatingly he acknowledged., 
that God would be entirely just to leave him to perish 
eternally. Have you forgotten his solicitude for an in- 
terest in the prayers of the people of God, and how con- 
stantly he sought the place of social prayer ? Behold 
him now. His fears, his deep anxiety, his violent emo- 
tions have left him. He evinces no concern for his 
soul's salvation. He comes, no longer to ask the way 
of life. You rarely see him in the place of social pray- 
er. He comes indeed, on the Sabbath to the house of 
God ; but he has no keen sensibilities to the solemn 
import of the services. He shuns your presence. He 
avoids giving you an opportunity to speak to him con- 
cerning his present feelings and desires. But though 



376 EXPOSTULATION WITH YOUNG MEN. 

he seeks to escape from every person who would be 
likely to bring him once more solemnly to commune 
with himself — though he would avoid a recurrence of 
his conviction of danger y yet give him not up. run, 
speak to that unhappy young man. A word in sea- 
son, spoken in love, and solemn earnestness may save 
his soul. Pursue him with your prayers, and your en- 
treaties, speak to him under the impression, that if 
he be not speedily brought, to feel his condition, it must 
prove a hopeless one. God's Spirit may second your 
believing efforts, if now made ; and that young man 
become a new creature in Christ Jesus. If not soon 
made, the grieved and insulted Spirit may never more 
strive with him. 

5. speak to that young man whom you lately saw 
endeavor to conceal the unbidden tear that started from 
his eye as he listened to the solemn ministrations of the 
sanctuary. The truth has found its way to his heart.. 
Through its instrumentality the Spirit has begun to con- 
vince him of sin. He feels himself guilty and helpless. 
He would seek some one to guide his inquiries after 
salvation. But his family are strangers to experimental 
piety. His associates are the gay and the thoughtless.. 
He fears to encounter the scoffs and ridicule which a 
knowledge of his religious concern would lead them to 
heap upon him. Perhaps he has not a single acquain- 
tance who is a friend of Christ. What shall he do ? 
Do you expect he will come to you with the story of his 
inward pangs ? But he may not know that you are a 
professed follower of Christ. Or, if he knows that, he 
does not know that you are one of those christians who 
feel interested for awakened sinners. Wait not for him 
to seek you. That half-hidden tear speaks to all that 
is christian in your heart. Invited by that, go, speak 
to that young man. It will send a gleam of light into 
his dark mind. Speak to him of the Redeemer, and 
who can tell, but that the first announcement of his 
grace and sufficiency, will be met by his faith and repen- 



EXPOSTULATION WITH YOUNG MEN. 377 

tance ? Who can tell but that the moment you shall 
preach Christ to him, he will cordially embrace him 
and go on his way rejoicing. 

6. speak to that young man who seems almost 
on the point of giving up as unavailing his attempts 
to obtain an interest in Christ. For weeks and even 
months he has been thought an anxious inquirer, but 
has made no perceptible progress towards a state of re- 
conciliation and acceptance with God. Often his heart 
tempts him to ask, why should I wait for the Lord any 
longer ? Why should [ walk in continual sorrow and 
heaviness of soul ? But he is evidently laboring under 
a very serious mistake, and this mistake tends to de- 
tain him in a condition of imminent peril. He secretly 
thinks to purchase salvation by his anxities, his cries, 
and his tears. He fancies that after so long a season 
of conviction and distress, God must in some way be 
laid under a sort of obligation to show him mercy. He 
half persuades himself, that he can be profitable unto 
God, as one man is profitable unto another. He con- 
ceives it to be hard for him to seek so long in vain. And 
discouraged in the pursuit which yields only present 
suffering and promises nothing but suffering hereafter, 
he is often secretly debating the question in his own 
mind, whether or not to suspend all further endeavors 
after life. But shall he give up the pursuit of heaven? 
Ye redeemed people of the living God, speak to that 
young man. Show him his mistake. Tell him of his 
danger. Teach him how unprofitable and worthless 
have all his services been in the sight of God. Point 
out to him the way of safety. Urge him immediately 
to flee from the wrath to come. Entreat him not to 
linger any longer amidst circumstances so full of haz- 
ard. Beseech him to give away his heart, himself, to 
the Lord. One word fitly spoken to him now, will tell 
most auspiciously on his immortal destiny. It may 
rouse his slumbering soul to agonize to enter in at the 
straight gate, before the door of hope is closed forev.*. 

32* 



378 EXPOSTULATION WITH YOUNG MEN. 

er against him. He will attend to what you say w He 
will believe you to be in earnest. He will feel that you 
are sincerely seeking his good from a full conviction of 
his danger. Hasten, then, to drop a word of friendly 
admonition, of affectionate entreaty in his ear, before he 
shall have determined to obey the promptings of a wick- 
ed heart, aided by the allurements of a wicked world* 
no more to care for his soul. It is a season of great 
and momentous interest with him. Deal faithfully with 
him. Spare no pains. Spare not his feelings — if by 
any means you may bring him to speedy repentance. 

7. SPEAK TO THAT YOUNG MAN wflO OTlCe thought 

himself, and who once ivas thought, a subject of renew* 
ing grace, but now affords most painful proof that he is 
a stranger to the power of spiritual religion. Poor 
deluded youth ! Must he be lost? You remember the 
marked change which he formerly exhibited in his feel- 
ings and conduct. You cannot have forgotten how alive 
he once appeared to the evil of sin, and how cautiously 
he seemed to guard against k. You still recollect with 
what apparent fervor he formerly was wont to pray in 
the retired circles of his associates. There was so 
much visible humility, sincerity, and gentleness of spirit, 
that you for a while could not but fondly hope, that he 
had passed from death unto life. But now you see him 
more changed than ever — exhibiting more indifference 
to the things of God than ever. He no longer prays — 
no longer searches the word of God — no longer loves 
the place of prayer — no longer mingles with his former 
associates in the ways of Zion. He would gladly ab- 
stract himself from every circumstance of place or per- 
son that reminds him of his past religious pretensions. 
Ah! he can now even scoff at serious religion, ridicule 
its spiritual professors, and treat with contemptuous neg- 
lect, its solemn institutions. Those lips, from which 
once proceeded the language of prayer, are now heard 
to pronounce the name of God in vain, and to utter 
strange oaths, and idle and profane discourse. Must 



Expostulation with young men. 379 

lie be lost. O, ye who through grace have been kept 
from falling speak to that wretched young man. He 
was inexperienced. He was ignorant of the arts and 
powerful allurements of the world. He was uncon- 
scious of the wiles of the destroyer. He was seduced 
from the only place of safety, fast by the oracle and mer- 
cy seat of God. Wicked companions made him asham- 
ed of his bible, of his closet, and of his religion. He 
was gone far from God before he was aware that he had 
actually begun to decline, speak to him. You know 
the power of temptation, you know the way to escape 
from it. Whether he is only a grievously fallen chris- 
tian, or a victim of self-deception. You may speak a 
word in season to him. But delay not. The business 
requires haste. If any thing effectual is done for his re- 
covery, it must be done speedily. The speed of an an- 
gel would not outrun the rapidity with which the ele- 
ments of ultimate destruction are gathering about him. 
Finally, speak to that young man, who remains 
unaffected by the scenes of a revival, that is awakening 
and renewing many in the circle of his particular ac- 
quaintances. Say not, there is no hope in respect to 
him. Though nothing has moved him yet, something 
you may say, may reach his heart. He has been the 
subject of many prayers. There are those whose hearts 
are filled with agony on his account. There are rela- 
tives whose eyes have been held weeping, night after 
night, at the thought of his unconcern, amidst so much 
to awaken his solicitude. He evinces no peculiar aver- 
sion to the truth and religion of the gospel. He is ha- 
bitually attentive to the preached word. He admits the 
importance of the great concern. But he has no sen- 
sibilities awake to the subject. The prayers and the 
tears of his friends are however entered into the ears of 
the Lord of Sabaoth. God witnesses these agonized 
hearts. He is waiting to send an arrow of conviction 
to his heart, through your instrumentality. Only speak 
in demonstration of the Spirit, and that arrow shall fly, 



380 EXPOSTULATION WITH YOUNG MEN. 

his heart shall feel, his tears shall flow, his will shall bow, 
and he shall rise up as alive from the dead. Be not 
faithless — be not unfaithful — be not slow and reluctant 

tO act. RUN, SPEAK TO THAT YOUNG MAN. Is it B. Small 

thing to save a soul from death ? 

I have thus, my brethren, attempted to illustrate and 
enforce one branch of your duty to young men by speci- 
fying several distinct classes of them, who need to have 
you speak to them concerning their spiritual condition 
and prospects. No apology is due for the minuteness 
of my specification, or the urgency of my exhortations. 
Young men constitute a very large, and a most interest- 
ing part of my audience from Sabbath to Sabbath. And 
here is the only place where I have an opportunity to 
speak to most of them on these great subjects. They 
are more withdrawn from the usual means of religious 
impression than any other class. They are assailed 
by a more numerous and formidable array of tempta- 
tions than any other. Their saving conversion would 
promise great usefulness to the church of God. If they 
are not converted, they will be likely to become formid- 
able foes to the cause of saving piety, speak to them 
then. In your daily intercourse with them follow up 
the instructions they hear on the Sabbath, speak to 
them often, speak to them kindly, speak to them 
earnestly, speak to them seasonably, speak to 
them in view of death, judgment, and the world of re- 
tribution. O, speak to them with a heart glowing 
with heavenly love and fervent from the altar of devo- 
tion ; and your words shall be to them the words of 
salvation. 



SERMON XXX 



The Believer's Refuge in Calamity. 



ISAIAH XXVI. 20. 

COME, MY PEOPLE, ENTER THOU INTO THY CHAMBERS, AND SHUT 
THY DOORS ABOUT THEE : HIDE THYSELF AS IT WERE TOR A 
LITTLE MOMENT, UNTIL THE INDIGNATION BE OVERPAST. 

Every one can easily conceive of persons being 
placed in circumstances of difficulty, danger, or distress, 
in which the proffer of safe and adequate guidance, pro- 
tection, and support, must appear eminently deserving 
a prompt and grateful acceptance. Doubtless the in- 
dividual has rarely lived, who has not at some period of 
his life, found himself placed in such circumstances. 
To be shielded from an impending array of temporary 
evils, is a favor the value of which few have not been 
taught by their own personal experience. To be cov- 
ered in the day of battle, to be snatched from the sinking 
wreck of a vessel, to have our persons and dwellings left 
untouched by the sweep of furious tempests, or the more 
frightful rage of resistless conflagrations, to escape from: 
the contagion of a spreading pestilence, are instances of 
providential protection with which all are familiar, and 
in whose benefits all have in some degree participated. 
The intervention of providence in cases of temporal de- 
liverances, is sometimes so marked and special, that they 
become no unsuitable representative or type of th at spir- 



382 

itual protection which heaven proffers to all, and which 
is extended to believers in all its present and everlasting 
benefits. Indeed, the Scriptures contain the history of 
several instances of preservation from temporal calami- 
ties, which we have the best authority to regard as typi- 
cal of the believer's quiet refuge amidst all that can as- 
sail his religious peace now, or threaten the safety of 
his soul in eternity. He who rode securely on the bo- 
som of that flood which whelmed, in one general ruin, 
the entire population of the old world, is such an in- 
stance. He who safely escaped from the fiery tem- 
pests that turned the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah in- 
to ashes, is also an instance. And such an instance we 
have in the case of ancient Israel, who abode safely in 
their habitations, while the angel of death was execu- 
ting his office in all the dwellings of their wicked op- 
pressors. 

Now, sincere believers from that very peculiarity of 
character which constitutes them such, must have been 
the subjects of at least one great and all important de- 
liverance, of which these instances are fit and striking 
emblems. They must have been brought into a refuge 
that shields from the storms, and bears up above the 
floods of divine wrath. They must have been led to 
escape from the region of pollution and guilt over which 
the curse of God hangs and is ready to burst in the ven- 
geance of eternal fire. They must have found them- 
selves by an act of signal grace, brought into safety, 
and screened from danger, when spiritual death reigned 
on every side. But notwithstanding an experience of 
the divine interposition so marked and unequivocal, 
they are liable to forget, that the same gracious hand 
that bore and shielded them from difficulties and perils 
which threatened their souls, is pledged to them through 
every successive step in their progress to that world, 
where no circumstance of annoyance can have place, 
and no evils interrupt the current of their joys. And 
lest they should ruinously forget this, God meets them. 



IN CALAMITY. 38S 

amidst every circumstance of threatening evil, and in 
such language as the text, points them to their safe re- 
treat. COME, MY PEOPLE, ENTER THOU INTO THY 
CHAMBERS, AND SHUT THY DOORS ABOUT THEE : HIDE 
THYSELF AS IT WERE FOR A LITTLE MOMENT, UNTIL 

the indignation be overpast. Here, Jehovah by 
the prophet, calls on his people through successive ages 
in times of trouble, difficulty and distress, to retire 
from the world, and by faith and prayer to take refuge 
in himself, patiently waiting and cheerfully expecting 
deliverance. That we, my christian brethren, may 
properly regard the call and admonition here addressed 
to us, it is important that we should give our attention to 
two obvious inquiries which the passage suggests : viz. 
What is to be understood by the people of God entering 
into their chambers, and hiding themselves ? — When 
are they to do this ? 

I. What is to be understood by the people of God 
entering into their chambers and hiding themselves^ 
He who is chiefly respected in all religious services, 
and who alone can afford his people the safety and sol- 
ace they need in this scene of iniquity and sorrow, looks 
beyond the outward form of their acts of obedience, 
and has his eye on the habits and movements of the 
heart. Men have been known to withdraw from the 
world, while they have carried its worst spirit with them 
into their cloistered retreats. It may be doubted, wheth- 
er acts of total seclusion from the world, though attend- 
ed with the inward acts of a crucifixion to the world, 
is what God ever requires of man. But it admits of 
no question, that he does require of his people a sepa- 
ration from the course of the world. I observe, then, — 

1. When he bids them enter into their chambers 
he calls them to come out from an intimate communion 
and sympathy with those who seek no higher good than 
the world affords. He has set apart the godly for 
himself and consequently expects they will separate 
themselves to be his peculiar people. Not by a rigo- 



384 THE 

rous abscission from the innocent and rational gratificat- 
ions which are here, in some degree, promiscuously 
measured out to men as a part of their earthly heritage. 
Not by needless singularities and repulsive austerities, 
which are nowhere required, and rarely, if ever, found 
among those who are most spiritual and heavenly in 
their cast of mind. And yet they who enter into 
their chambers in the sense here intended, become 
in this way, a singular people. They become distin- 
guished by very prominent marks from the great mass 
of men. They act in a different sphere. They occupy 
a separate apartment. They pursue different ends. 
They are prompted to exertion by different motives. 
Though mingled with others in the avocations of life, 
they take with them wherever they go, their own pecu- 
liar element. They cannot live in the element of the 
world. They cannot breathe in the atmosphere of its 
sordid ends, its selfish aims, its low principles, and its 
loose maxims. While dwelling among worldly men, in 
seeing and hearing, they vex their souls from day to 
day with their unlawful deeds. They pant for a holier 
society. And though lingering below, they are drawn 
upwards by the strong ties of heavenly affections to the 
society of the just made perfect ; where they are seen 
and known to belong by all who will candidly and seri- 
ously eye the temper of their hearts and the tenor of 
their lives. Now whatever the profane scoffer, or the 
stupid christian may say to this, some such separation 
from a fallen world must take place in every one who 
obeys the call of God to enter into his chamber. 
Otherwise, what can shield him from the rage of that 
final storm which must drive the wicked to hell ? 

2. When God directs his people to enter into 
their chambers, he bids them seek protection in him- 
self. Their chambers are the secret place of the Most 
High. To dwell there, is to abide under the shadow 
of the Almighty. To dwell there, is to have him for a 
refuge and fortress. To dwell there, is to be hid in his 



IN CALAMITY. 385 

pavilion — in the secret of his tabernacle. Now the 
perfections of God are the secret of his tabernacle. 
They are a high tower into which the righteous run 
and are safe. But how do believers seek and obtain 
protection in God ? How do they enter into these 
chambers of theirs, which are thus walled around with 
the perfections of the Eternal ? Men do not, naturally 
and of course, find their way into these chambers of 
defence. It is only by the fervent actings of a vigor- 
ous faith, that the children of God throw themselves be- 
neath his protection. It is faith alone that plants them 
in these high munitions of everlasting rock. It is faith 
by which man is first reconciled to God and justified by 
his grace, and thus all his attributes are gathered around 
him as a shield against the approach or infliction of es- 
sential evil. It is in vain, that these everlasting barriers 
against the approach of evil to the believing soul exist, 
unless faith throws them around the soul. So the be- 
liever, whose sense of need abates and whose confidence 
in the divine protection wavers, must by simple acts of 
faith, betake himself anew to his chambers of defence, 
or he will fall into dangers, and, like the Hebrew who 
heedlessly exposed himself to the tempest of mingled 
hail and fire that scourged the land of Egypt, will share 
the same evils that besiege the ungodly. 

3. In exhorting his people to enter into their 
chambers, God invites them to the more retired and 
earnest acts of devotion, enter into thy chambers, 
and shut thy doors about thee. But thou, when 
thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast 
shut thy door, pray to thy Father who is in secret, and 
thy Father who seeth in secret shall reward thee openly. 
The importance of such private, personal, and undis- 
guised intercourse with God under the circumstances 
contemplated in the text, renders it certain, that this is 
the grand thing chiefly required in the expression we 
are considering. Believers can do nothing towards a 
compliance with what has already been considered as 

33 



386 the believer's refuge 

included in this requirement, if they neglect this. They 
can neither separate themselves from the world, nor 
strengthen themselves in God, unless they bring their 
whole souls into a posture of deep abstraction from things 
seen, and of close and fervent intercourse with the in- 
visible Jehovah. It is by such acts, that the believer 
becomes imbued with a spiritual savour, and invested 
with a heavenly atmosphere that keeps him separate 
from the contamination of earthly scenes. And it is in 
the transactions between his soul and God in the closet, 
that he gets himself armed with a consciousness that 
God is for him, and therefore, nothing can effectually 
be against him. O, the business of the closet, embrac- 
ing rigorous self-scrutiny, deep communings with the 
heart, undissembled humiliation, and believing prayer 
before God, is the work that rears the separating wall 
between the believer and the world, and fortifies him 
against every thing that can annoy, seduce, or destroy 
him. How gracious is that God who thus invites his 
people to retire with him into their closets to hide them- 
selves there in the secret of his tabernacle ! 

II. The second inquiry it was proposed to consider , 
is, when are believers to enter into their chambers ? No 
doubt, they are to do it continually. They are to dwell 
in the secret place of the Most High. But there are 
important junctures, critical seasons, dangerous predica- 
ments, when the house that is well secured, needs to be 
doubly guarded ; when the unsleeping sentinel needs to 
be doubly watchful; when the well armed soldier needs 
to be girt about with triple panoply. Let me observe 
then, 

1 . That believers have special need of entering in- 
to their chambers in times of worldly difficulty and 
embarrassments. The causes of such embarrassments 
and difficulty in the worldly concerns of men, are often 
of so deep and subtle a nature, or lie so entirely cov- 
ered up in the folds of the mysterious web of providen- 
tial occurrences, or so far back in the series of events, 






IN CALAMITY. 387 

as utterly to elude detection and to forbid any satisfac- 
tory explanation, other than a direct reference to the 
special providence of God. Who will venture in any 
other way to account for the existing distress of nations 
with perplexity, growing immediately out of a simulta- 
neous embarrassment in the affairs of the commercial 
world? But were it otherwise, and did the causes 
which have had an immediate agency in bringing about 
this state of things, lie open to the view of all, it would 
still be alike consistent with true philosophy and true 
piety, to refer it to the wise and benevolent, though in- 
scrutable methods of God's infinite government. It is 
the indignation of the Lord, no doubt, against the idol- 
atry and avarice of a gain-devoted community, which is 
felt in this extensive commercial embarrassment and 
pecuniary depression among the nations. Now, the 
christian whose temporal interests sympathize with this 
wide spread depression, is called to contemplate it as 
the direct visitation of Jehovah's chastening hand. In- 
stead of wasting his time and his breath in fruitless com- 
plaints of the dishonesty, the covetousness, and the 
hardness of his fellow men, let him enter into his 

CHAMBERS, AND SHUT HIS DOORS ABOUT HIM. There 

is the place for the christian to obtain right views of the 
visitation. There is the only place where he can rea- 
sonably expect to imbibe the spirit requisite to enable him 
to deal justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with 
his God in the midst of those who have never learned 
to do either. There he will become satisfied, that pov- 
erty is infinitely to be preferred to wealth gained by the 
mysteries of trade, the arts of avarice, and the dark 
methods of fraud and over-reaching. There he will 
gain strength to bear up under worldly disappointments 
and to meet the most formidable array of reverses in 
his temporal concerns. There, separated from a sinful 
world, shielded by Omnipotence, and in near and ab- 
sorbing communion with him, he is beyond the reach 
of consuming cares, restless solicitudes, and bewilder* 



388 

ing perplexities, that prey on the mind in the scenes and 
vortex of worldly engagements. Ah ! and there too, 
though left in the vicissitude of affairs without a habita- 
tion or place to lay his head on earth, he is blessed with 
no false assurance, that he can never cease to have^a 
dwelling place with God, or to be permitted to repose 
his weary soul on the bosom of everlasting love. Nor 
is this all. The believer entered into his chambers, 
stands at the very fountain head of all good in time and 
eternity — stands fast hold of the hand that directs the 
affairs of all worlds, and allots to man his varied condi- 
tion on earth. So that if it is best, that hand will either 
extricate him speedily from all embarrassing difficulties 
in his worldly circumstances, or make their continuance 
augment his happiness in both worlds. 

2. There is great need that christians should enter 
into their chambers in times of rebuke and blas- 
phemy among the more open enemies to all righteous- 
ness. There has, to be sure, scarcely been a time since 
our fallen species extended their dominion over the face 
of the earth, which might not with propriety be thus 
characterized. But seasons occur, when wicked men 
become greatly emboldened in their iniquitous ways; 
when they seem impatient to harden themselves against 
the Almighty, and to rush upon the thick bosses of his 
buckler. In such intervals of prevalent daring impiety, 
the example of a few bold despisers of God and his law, 
becomes contagious, and multitudes of the ungodly 
world are ready to flock to the standard erected no less 
against all law and order, virtue and morality, than 
against piety and heaven. How many, half a century 
ago, gathered about the standard reared in France by 
the great apostle of irreligion and profligacy. And our 
own age and country afford evidence, that the example 
of that dark combination against every thing that allies 
man to his Maker and earth to heaven, first wasting 
and desolating all that was pure and lovely within their 
reach, and then wasting and destroying themselves and 



IN CALAMITY. 389 

each other, has not deterred some kindred spirits from 
engaging in a similar work of moral and spiritual ruin, 
amidst the influence of the purer Christianity and more 
free and liberal institutions of our own beloved land. 
And what shall be done to stay the progress of that be- 
gun work ? Refute their arguments, says one. En- 
tangle them in the infidel's dilemma, says another. 
Point them to the issue of no less confident pretentions 
and bold attempts by their brethren of other days, says 
a third. But says the testimony of Jesus, come, my 

PEOPLE, ENTER THOU INTO THY CHAMBERS. Abide in 

your own apartments. Stand aloof from the influence 
of worldly maxims and principles. By your holy life 
and heavenly temper, aim to convince the abettors of 
irreligion, that your Christianity has a purity, a grandeur, 
a divinity, which belong to no other system of religion. 
Bring all its interest with you into the secret of my tab- 
ernacle, and commit them to the safe protection of my 
own immutable promises, purposes, and perfections. 
Thus use the spiritual weapons of your holy warfare, 
and you have nothing to fear. A similar direction is no 
less appropriate to the people of God in view of the le- 
galized profanation of his Sabbath among us. We may 5 
and we ought, however loud and wide the cry of reli- 
gious combinations, respectfully and firmly to demand 
of our civil rulers, that they restore to us our Sabbaths 
as at the first, by repealing those enactments which 
have gone very far towards a most grievous desecration 
and pollution of that day, which God commands men 
every where to remember and keep holy. But let chris- 
tians, who sigh and weep over this spreading evil, en- 
ter into their chambers, if they would make God's 
" violated law speak out its thunders" so as to be heard, 
and felt, and heeded in the halls of our national legisla- 
ture. And if they thus hide themselves in their 
chambers, while rivers of waters run down their eyes 
because the law of God is not kept, but made void f 
their prayers will enter into his ears, who turns the 

33* 



390 THE BELIEVER^ REFUGE 

hearts of men, and turns the counsels of wicked and un- 
principled men into foolishness. In view, too, of the 
prospect, that upon our nation is about to come the guilt 
of violating the faith of solemn treaties, and of annihi- 
lating or sending back to barbarism a nation within our 
borders, who are fast advancing in all the arts of civili- 
zed life, and rapidly yielding to the holy sway of the 
gospel, the text furnishes a most apposite direction to 
those christians who are weeping over this prospect. 
Their chambers are their only resort. There, they, 
may affect the heart that holds all hearts — "move the 
hand that moves the world." Let their petitions be 
earnest, then,, and our red brethren may yet be spared ; 
and our nation saved from the curse of violating the 
sacred stipulations and covenants of treaties, and of 
shedding the innocent blood of those whom providence 
has thrown beneath our protection. O, let them bring 
the cause of spiritual Christianity, our Sabbaths, our in- 
stitutions, our rulers and our persecuted brethren, with 
them into their chambers, and commend them to the 
Governor of the universe, and the tide of threatening 
indignation may be yet stayed. 

3. In a time of declension and apostacy among pro- 
fessors of the holy religion of the gospel, the children of 
God are strongly urged to enter into their cham- 
bers. Such times are eminently times of indignation. 
Then the safety of interests the most dear to the saints 
of God, are peculiarly in jeopardy. Then it is emphat- 
ically, that help and safety can only come from Jeho- 
vah. So long as the church of redeemed sinners stands 
firm, preserves the unity of the spirit, glows with the 
fervor of its heavenly attachments, and shines from its 
own pure eminence with the brightness of its faith and 
obedience, there is hope of the world. But when the 
reverse seems becoming true ; when the spirit of the 
world begins to pervade the church; when a deathlike 
stupidity, or a daring apostacy begins to gain admission, 
^ho has not reason to tremble I If the foundations be 



IN CALAMITY. 391 

destroyed, what can the righteous do ? If the only spot 
on earth that can be expected to wear the loveliness 
and bloom of Paradise, seems yielding to the wasting 
and desolating prevalence of error and indifference, 
where can the child of God turn his eyes — where direct 
his steps, but to his secret chambers ? Yet blessed be 
God, he can look there, and feel his hopes revive. He 
can hasten thither, and find that all is safe. There, in 
holy abstraction from every circumstance that depresses 
and wastes the church, he can lie near, and by prayers 
and tears, affect the heart of him who has engraven 
Zion upon the palms of his hands. Yes, the very storm 
of indignation that threatens her ruin, while it scatters, 
and divides, and weakens, and destroys others, drives 
the living saints into their chambers of separation, pro- 
tection, and effectual prayer. To this blessed retreat, 
then, let true christians betake themselves, when iniqui- 
ty abounds, and the love of many waxes cold. There, 
they shall be safe. And there, they may do much to 
attract wandering christians back to safety. 

We perceive from this view of the subject, how kind- 
ly the duties and the privileges of believers are united. 
God's commands are only gracious calls to duty and to 
happiness. He never requires of his people a single 
act that is not followed with a long train of benefits to 
themselves. How should they then love and obey even 
those requisitions which are severe and rigorous to flesh 
and blood. How should they thankfully welcome even 
painful visitations that are found requisite to bring them 
near to himself, and under the protection of his almighty 
Grace. What christian can be heedless, then, of such 
an invitation as is addressed to him in the text ? It is 
a call to purity — a call to safety — a call to usefulness — 
a call to happiness. And remember, christian, thy 
profession will not make thee pure, safe, useful or hap- 
py. It will not shield thee from the beating tempest of 
fiery indignation that must, sooner or later, whelm in ruin 
all unbelievers, come, then, into thy chambers, 



392 the believer's refuge, &c. 

and shut thy doors about thee : hide thyself 
as it were for a little moment, until the indig- 
nation be overpast. 

And my fellow sinners, who are strangers to this re- 
treat, will ask themselves, how they can endure the 
storm which must soon burst upon them. A horrible 
tempest must be the portion of their cup, unless they 
come with the people of God. Would you be separate 
from the retributions of the wicked? — be separate from 
them now. Would you be safe when the last tempest 
shall pour its cataracts of vengeance on an ungodly 
world ? — by faith cast yourselves beneath the wings of 
the Almighty now. Would you measure your eternity, 
in acts of holy intercourse with God ? — begin those acts 
now. 



SERMON XXXI 



The Believer's Conflict and Victory. 



REVELATION XII. 11. 

^.ND THEY OVERCAME HIM BY THE BLOOD OF THE LAMB, AND 
THE WORD OF THEIR TESTIMONY : AND THEY LOVED NOT 

THEIR LIVES UNTO THE DEATH. 



The events referred to in the emblematical repre- 
sentations of the apostle in this chapter, are generally 
supposed to have taken place during some of the first 
centuries of the christian era. Some diversity of opin- 
ion exists, however, as to the particular occurrences in 
the early history of the church, in which these predic- 
tions were fulfilled. It seems highly probable, that this 
part of the prophecy has a primary reference to the 
first decided and extensive overthrow of pagan idolatry, 
and the establishment of Christianity, by means of the 
promulgation of the gospel. Undoubtedly it also has 
a more general and extended relation to the progress 
of a pure Christianity, from age to age — to the grand 
obstacles it has to surmount, and to the surprising 
success attending a heartfelt adherence to the great 
principles of the gospel, and a faithful testimony to its 
holiness and power, in the life and character of its friends. 
So that whatever be the specific events in which the 
prediction received its accomplishment, or whatever 



394 THE 

hidden and as yet unknown wonders may be intimated 
in some parts of this singularly sublime and affecting 
vision, it is not without obvious and important instruc- 
tion. While we may learn from it what is the general 
condition of the true church through a series of ages, 
we may also learn what is the character and condition 
of genuine piety ; what foes it has to encounter ; the 
nature of the conflict it carries on, and the weapons 
by which its conquests are achieved. The passage se- 
lected for present consideration, especially instructs us 
on all of these points, they overcame by the blood 

OF THE LAMB, AND BY THE WORD OF THEIR TESTIMO- 
NY : AND THEY LOVED NOT THEIR LIVES UNTO THE 
DEATH. 

These heroic confessors, whose signal victory the 
beloved disciple represents as the theme of gratulation, 
joy, and praise in heaven, afford us a beautiful and in- 
structive example of what true christians are in the 
present world. The condition of the early christians 
was, indeed, in some respects peculiar. They met the 
prince of this world leading on his forces against 
them in unbroken and unweakened ranks. Theirs was 
a contest, not only with the strong remains of evil with- 
in themselves, but with a whole world lying in wicked- 
ness. The great Captain of their salvation, under 
whose banner they fought, had, to be sure, just over- 
come their grand foe, and set down with his Father on 
his heavenly throne. But his victory, though most de- 
cisive, did not exempt his followers from conflict. On 
the contrary, it made it necessary for them to contend 
with the same class of enemies. To follow him, was 
to fight and vanquish as he did. The particular form 
In which the grand enemy assailed them, was that of an 
unrelenting, persecuting heathen government. The 
Roman empire, embracing at that period nearly the 
entire known world, was combined in horrid confede- 
racy against the flock of Christ's disciples. Almost 
every instrument of torturing destruction, which human 



AND VICTORY. 395 

skill could contrive, or human power could wield, was 
employed to wear out the saints, and crush the rising 
cause of Christ. But instruments thus formidable in 
the hands of a power unlimited, vindictive, and cruel in 
the extreme, proved wholly insufficient to waste away 
the energies of the disciples, or arrest the progress of 
the church. With an unwavering dependence of heart 
on the promised presence and grace of their Master, 
and clad in the simple armor of his truth, they over- 
came fears and foes. In this contest most of them suf- 
fered a violent death. But every death of persons in 
their circumstances, of their character and spirit, was 
a new triumph to their cause. 

And so it ever is. Christians now, in these latter 
days of the wider spread of a pure Christianity, while 
they are engaged in essentially the same spiritual war- 
fare, no more die unto themselves than they live unto 
themselves. I say, while engaged in essentially the 
same spiritual warfare. And can it admit of any ques- 
tion, whether the followers of Christ are, from age to 
age, in one condition, as it respects the class of ene- 
mies with which they are to conflict, the nature of their 
supports, and the results of their unwearied spiritual 
struggles ? Except as varied by some unimportant cir- 
cumstances, their condition in the present world is as 
much one as their character is one. Indeed, their char- 
acter makes their condition. It occasioned the condi- 
tion of the first christians. It made them the persecu- 
ted, scattered, suffering little flock. They who have 
not the christian's feelings in regard to sin, his views 
in regard to God and truth, and his aims in regard to 
duty, can of course have none of his peculiar circum- 
stances of annoyance, feel none of his peculiar motives, 
and hear none of his calls to duty — to conflict — to con- 
quest. Place a worldly man in precisely the out- 
ward condition of a suffering, agonizing, and conquer- 
ing christian, and he would probably be entirely un- 
conscious of those things in that condition, which 



396 the believer's conflict 

nearly engrossed the whole thought and efforts of the 
christian. 

As it respects the enemies which assail the disciples 
of Christ in the present world, and with which a con- 
stant warfare is carried on, the bible teaches us, that 
there is one grand foe variously denominated by the 
inspired writers, who has an important agency in direct- 
ing all the spiritual assaults made upon them, whether 
in the secret chambers of the inner man, or in the open 
field of religious duty. He is spoken of as a roaring 
lion, seeking whom he may devour. He is described as 
ever watchful of opportunity, and skilful in devising 
modes of assailing the children of God. An apostle 
speaks of this prince of soul-destroyers as one ever plot- 
ting to deceive that he may destroy. But what chris- 
tian can be ignorant of his devices? Now, it is this 
ruler of the darkness of this world, whom the early 
martyrs of our religion, are said to have overcome. At 
that period and in their case, his method of attack was 
more open. He assailed them by the strong arm of a 
persecuting power. His spirit prompted their attack. 
His legions, which he had enlisted from among men, 
all joined with fierce and relentless violence against 
them, as if moved by a single impulse. The dragon 
fought and his angels. But discomfited in that mem- 
orable contest, he has rarely since attempted by similar 
means to achieve his black designs. That was a mighty 
endeavor to which he had summoned his choicest le- 
gions, in order at once to put out the, light of Christiani- 
ty, and leave the world to the unbroken reign of his 
darkness. In limited portions of the world, he has con- 
tinued with various success to attempt something like 
this. But he is ever varying his weapons, his agents, 
and mode of assault, that what he could not otherwise 
compass, he may effect by surprise. He is the god of 
this world, and he knows how to make it subserve his 
interests in effecting the ruin of souls. He can make 
it assume, in the views of men, a value and importance 



AND VICTORY. 397 

even greater than that of an eternal world. He can in- 
vest its lying vanities with the appearance of splendid 
and substantial realities. He can make its perishing 
riches, its fading honors, and its short-lived pleasures, 
seem more to be desired than the imperishable, unfading, 
everduring treasures, glories, and felicities, laid up in 
heaven for those who love God. Having this power to 
deceive men, he has long been using the things of the 
world, as the means of cheating immortal creatures out 
of every thing that can make immortality desirable. 
Who can tell what numbers he has led captive at his 
will } by presenting them with a false aspect of worldly 
things ? It is no proof that his agency is not concerned 
in leading men into mistaken and fatal views of present 
things, because they are not conscious of his power. 
The deceived are never conscious of their deception, or 
of the means of their being so. Indeed, one class of 
men are deceived by him into a persuasion, that he has 
no existence, and therefore that they have nothing to 
fear from his devices. 

Now this great foe of God, and of all that is holy and 
happy in his universe, is, from the very elements of his 
own wretched nature, never wearied in works of dark- 
ness, and never satisfied with the success of his hellish 
designs. Although a fearfully large proportion of this 
world's population, from age to age, have quietly resign- 
ed themselves to his sway, contented and pleased with 
the delusions he practised upon them, yet he is restless 
beneath the promptings of a vast ambition, to multiply 
the subjects of his dark empire. There, most gladly 
would he place all the perfected spirits in glory. And 
there, by his nameless wiles, he» would, if it were pos- 
sible, deceive, and bring even the elect, who on earth 
are in a course of education for the skies. His attempts 
on all persons of this class, are essentially the same as 
were so signally defeated in the case of their divine 
Master. And it is through him alone, that any of his 
followers are victorious in the mighty conflict. It may 

34 



398 

be matter of surprise, that he who knows so well how 
to adapt his means to the end he has in view — how to 
suit his temptations to the diversified characters of men, 
should ever attempt to destroy the true child of God : 
for he may be supposed to know full well that no such 
will ever perish — can ever be plucked out of the Father's 
hand. But he does not know who are the true child- 
ren of God. Keen and quick as he is to discern char- 
acter, he cannot distinguish between the saint real, and 
the saint assumed. He knows, indeed, that there are 
many of the latter, and this encourages him in his cruel 
assaults to shake the faith and rob of heaven those who 
seem to be hastening thither. Besides, if he certainly 
knew he should not destroy eternally the souls of the 
children of God, he is so malignant in his nature, and 
makes evil so much his good, that the known absolute 
impossibility of ^destroying them, presents no bar to his 
efforts in doing them all the evil in his power — in fol- 
lowing them with his fiery darts even to the very thresh- 
old of heavenly glory. Why did he spend his infernal 
strength, why did he exhaust his hell-acquired skill 
upon the harmless Lamb of God ? Perhaps, even the 
despair he feels of ever having them that he may sift 
them as wheat, may prompt his deadliest attempt to 
harm them — may make him point the barbed arrows he 
hurls at them, with peculiar venom. 

But whatever be the cause, so far as the subtle ad- 
versary is concerned, there can be no question, that 
sincere christians suffer unspeakably more from his 
temptations, than others. It can give a worldly man 
no additional pain to have the enchantments and the 
sorceries of the world multiplied before his mind allu- 
ring him along the way his heart chooses to go. To 
the religious man, however, every temptation suggested 
to his mind by the arch deceiver, is like a dagger to his 
heart. It inflicts a severe wound on all that is tender, 
and delicate, and refined, and holy in his moral consti- 
tution. It is a call to wake up the still unsubdued cor- 



AND VICTORY. 399 

ruptions of his breast. It is a cruel attempt to engage 
with new energies, the almost vanquished traitor in his 
heart, to throw T wide open the citadel to an innumerable 
host of besieging enemies. Nor does satan attempt by 
any means so often to allure wicked men from God, as 
the hopeful christian. The reason is obvious. There 
is no occasion for new allurement. They are already 
far from God. They are already in the hands of the 
destroyer. All, therefore, that he needs to do, is to 
keep them quiet, to lull them into a profound sleep, to 
hush their rising fears, and to make them feel the more 
safe as ruin rolls its tide nearer. His temptations with 
them are of a negative kind, and all fall in with the 
strong natural bias of their mind. When some awaken- 
ing event, in providence arouses and alarms them, he 
tempts them not to heed it. When the death of some 
friend or neighbor startles them, and urges upon them 
the inquiry what will become of them when they die ; 
he tempts them to rest in the conclusion, that, in some 
way or other, it will finally be well with them. When 
their minds are rendered more than usually solemn by 
means of a preached gospel, he tempts them, either to 
banish the whole subject from their thoughts, or to in- 
dulge some undefined notions, that there are views of 
the gospel, which need not make us solemn or anxious 
about our souls. At intervals too, when an excited con- 
science breaks their rest and gives them painful fore- 
bodings, he knows how to still the perturbations of 
their minds, by leading them away amidst the pursuits, 
the pleasures, and the interests of this present evil world. 
Now, temptations of this nature assail the children of 
God no less violently than others. Though he may 
know he cannot destroy the vital believer, he can tempt 
him to admit the dreadful conclusion that he has no part 
in the believer's portion. He can tempt him to resign 
himself to utter despair. He can beset him with temp- 
tations to commit those sins which would forbid the 
hope of his being a child of God. And may we not 



400 

suppose, that cases do sometimes occur, in which God 
allows the enemy to tempt his dear children to the com- 
mission of sins of this kind, as examples to make his 
people more watchful and constant on their guard against 
the wiles of the adversary ? If some such supposition 
be not admitted in the case of dark providences of this 
nature, must they not remain almost too dark and pain- 
ful for us in our present imperfect state to contemplate ? 
But, however this may be, we know there are numerous 
powerful trials, coming under the general designation 
of temptations which we are able to bear, and connect- 
ed with which God is pleased to open a way of escape ; 
and these are the ones beneath which christians must 
greatly suffer even to the last pulsation of life, though 
they will then certainly and gloriously triumph over 
the mall. And oftentimes, long before that final victory, 
the people of the living God are enabled to tread the 
tempter beneath their feet. Ah ! almost every day in 
the christian's life, is signalized by some such triumph. 
But by what means do the weak and tempted gain 
the victory ? By what weapons do they prevail against 
the dreadful foe ? The text informs us. they over- 
came HIM BY THE BLOOD OF THE LAMB, AND THE WORD 

of their testimony. This armor, these weapons, 
are peculiar to christians. No others can put them 
on — non e besides can wield them. To them alone 
they belong. They were provided for them from the 
armory of God. They belong to the character of 
christian saints. When they put on the new man which 
after God is created in righteousness and true holiness, 
they stand forth arrayed in this panoply, and prepared 
to lay it aside only when they shall receive the victor's 
crown. Though every true christian knows this, it 
may instruct and edify us, to inquire a little more par- 
ticularly, into the proper method of employing these 
weapons, and the way in which they become instru- 
mental of the vital christian's mastery over the enemy 
that opposes his salvation. 



AND VICTORY. 401 

It is by that faith alone, which gives to all its genu- 
ine subjects a heavenly, a divine impression, that these 
weapons can be successfully used. But all true chris- 
tians have this faith. It made them christians. It 
stamped them with the image of Christ. It made them 
partakers of his nature. It gave them a participation 
in the accidents of his own person. They are cruci- 
fied with him. He lives in them; and they conquer 
in him. But when it is said of christians, they over- 
come by the blood of the lamb, the meaning is, 
that the blood of atonement is the procuring cause of 
the believer's victory over sin and satan* Had he not 
bled, all men, for aught we are able to see, must have 
been the eternal victims of unweakened sin, and the 
bondslaves and companions of devils. But his death 
opened a door of hope to this fallen world. It remov- 
ed obstacles in the way of a sinner's salvation. It pre- 
sented an object of faith to our perishing race, which 
as soon as beheld with an eye of faith, like the serpent 
lifted up in the wilderness, imparted a healing influence, 
a sanctifying power. His death brought the Spirit of 
grace to operate on the human soul. And indeed, pro- 
cured all the agencies and influences which are concern- 
ed in the complete salvation of sinners. Now the great 
master-evil which the christian has to vanquish, is sa- 
tan — is sin — is the spirit that works in the children of 
disobedience. And he achieves this victory by casting 
an eye of faith on the bleeding Lamb of God. This 
act of faith in his blood, gives him victory, in that it is 
the legitimate means — the appointed medium — the only 
channel, through which a holy, a sanctifying influence 
comes to the mind and heart. Just as the stung by a 
fiery serpent, felt a healing power pervade his whole 
system, the moment he cast his eyes on the uplifted 
brazen serpent ; so the christian, journeying through the 
waste howling wilderness of this fallen world, and, at 
every step, needing something to cure him of the poison 
of sin — something to enable him to hold on his way tft 

34* 



402 



THE BELIEVES. S CONFLICT 



the promised rest, looks to the blood of the lamb, 
and goes forward treading the old serpent beneath his 
feet. Did you never see the christian pilgrim, just 
ready to end his wearisome sojourn on earth, and stand- 
ing on that high point of observation from which he was 
wont to look far over the gladsome scenery of the prom- 
ised land of rest, almost lose his spiritual hopes and 
consolations, and have his bright visions of faith begin 
to fade away into dim obscurity — and all because he 
had no lively perception — -no conscious heart-appli- 
cation of the blood of the lamb ? 

But the example of Christ, when contemplated with 
an eye of faith, is a scarcely less efficient instrument of 
the christian's victory over sin and satan. Christ, indeed, 
had no personal sins to subdue. But he knew what 
sore temptations were. And he knew what it was to 
vanquish the tempter and escape from all his artful wiles. 
Perhaps there is no single passage in our Saviour's life ; 
no part of his example, which his followers may con- 
template with greater benefit, than the scene of his pro- 
tracted temptations, and the triumphant manner in 
which he met all the assaults of the adversary. The 
result of his trials can scarcely fail to inspire them with 
courage. His method of treating the tempter must sug- 
gest important hints to aid them in the hour of trial. 
The christian is serving in a warfare against sin, beneath 
one who never fails to conquer in all he attempts. He 
defeated the subtle assaults of the prince of darkness, 
in the wilderness, and on the cross. When he poured 
out his life-blood he effectually destroyed him who had 
the power of death, that is, the devil. What need his 
followers fear, if they steadfastly eye their conquering 
Saviour ? He has not only defeated, but so destroyed 
the great destroyer of the souls of men, that he has no 
power essentially to harm or endanger the final salva- 
tion of one who truly follows him. The example of 
their bleeding conqueror, is an earnest, that, in all their 
conflicts with sin and satan, they shall conquer too. It 



AND VICTORY. 403 

is the same enemy that he subdued under his feet, and 
they are one with him ; and shall they not in due time 
tread him down also ? In the wars which men wage 
with one another, it is known with what courage, and 
confidence armies have advanced to the murderous 
conflict under the direction of some renowned general, 
who, through a thousand bloody engagements, was al- 
ways victorious. Such soldiers overcome by the ex- 
ample of their commander and leader. They conquer, 
because he has never been vanquished. 

Again. Christians overcome by the word of their 
testimony. " Great is truth, and it will prevail." 
Those early christians, whose case is especially describ- 
ed in the text, subdued kingdoms, out of weakness 
were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, and turned 
to flight the armies of the aliens, by the word of 
their testimony. The influence of those truths, 
which they fearlessly and faithfully testified, doubtless, 
contributed to their own personal holiness, and in this 
way, tended to secure them a wider spiritual sway, and 
increasing spiritual trophies. For there is nothing like 
the armor of righteousness on the right hand and on 
the left— nothing like the panoply of a holy and heart- 
felt devotion to Christ and his kingdom, to make chris- 
tians overcome the prejudices, and even the enmity of 
their foes. If a man's ways please the JLtOrd, he maketh 
ecen his enemies to be at peace with him. But the truths 
of the gospel, plainly and faithfully testified and pro- 
claimed, are mighty through God to the pulling down 
of strong holds — even the strong holds of satan. Let 
men stand up the simple and honest witnesses to the 
truth as it is in Jesus, amidst the unbroken darkness of 
heathen lands, exhibiting its pure and holy impress in 
their life and character ; and they will light up a lamp 
that will shine brighter and wider, until the whole popu- 
lation is reached by the heavenly illumination. Let 
men only become the bold, consistant, and unblenching 
witnesses for God and his truth, and not even the prince 



404 

of darkness in the darkest portion of his dominion on 
earth, will hurt them. This is the way that true Chris- 
tianity has hitherto been made to supplant other systems 
of religious delusion. And this is the sole way in which 
it can be made to control the entire population of the 
globe. The weapons of our warfare are not carnal, 
but spiritual. 

But there is a narrower sphere in which the victory 
of christians is not less decisive by the word of their 

TESTIMONY. This WORD OF THEIR TESTIMONY OVer- 

comes the power of sin, and, of course, the power of the 
deceiver in the little dominion of their own bosoms. 
How can sin reign where truth is enthroned ? What 
elements can the great deceiver find to work success- 
fully upon in that christian's heart, that enjoys the per- 
petual illumination of truth ? That man who is often 
drawn aside by temptation, and makes but little or no 
progress in the work of introducing the complete as- 
cendency of holy desires and affections into his soul, 
neglects the word of God — is not a faithful witness to 
the truth, does not make the word of Christ dwell rich- 
ly in him — and does not think of silencing the sugges- 
tions of the tempter, or of putting down the rising pow- 
er of indwelling sin by the sword of the Spirit. Mark 
how the Saviour met and foiled the tempter. 

Finally. Christians overcome by their courage and 
patience in suffering and readiness to die in promoting 
the Saviour's cause among men. This dread of suf- 
fering and not of sinning— this reluctance to die, willing- 
ness to live to no valuable purpose — this love of life 
above the cause of Christ, these are the things which 
give the adversary great advantages over many seeming 
christians. These are the things which go not to ex- 
tend the spiritual victories of our Christianity, but rather 
to spread its form without its power — its name without 
its holy and subduing energies. It was not so in the 
first days of the gospel, when a burning furnace of per- 
secution kept professing christians pure from dross* 



AND VICTORY. 405 

And, to the praise of rich grace, it is not universally so 
now. There are those who love not their lives 
unto death, when the love of life comes in competi- 
tion with their fidelity to Christ — who love not life so 
much, that they are unwilling to sacrifice it in advancing 
the cause for which their Lord and Master died. And 
how would the triumphs of truth be multiplied and ex- 
tended, if all visible christians were of this stamp ! What 
victories would the church then achieve ! How shortly 
would a voice be heard proclaiming — The kingdom and 
the dominion, and the greatness of the kingdom under 
the whole heaven, is given to the people of the saints of the 
Most High, whose kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, 
and all dominions shall serve and obey him. And it is 
a no less lovely and attractive manifestation of this same 
state of mind, which is often witnessed in the dying be- 
liever. His attachment to life becomes so weakened 
by the prevalence of purer and stronger affections, that 
he rejoices to let go his hold on lifp, to meet the king 
of terrors, and to pass the valley of death. Nor is the 
victory gained in such cases by any means inconsidera- 
ble. It is something for the dying saint to gain such an 
entire mastery over the array of fears and doubts, and 
terrors, that so naturally and frequently besiege the dy- 
ing bed. It implies a victory over the great deceiver 
and tempter. He can do no more to harm the depart- 
ing soul. It involves a victory over that strength of 
sin, which gives to death in numerous instances a bitter 
sting. Now, such a believer is a more glorious conquer- 
or than the whole annals of this world's heroism can 
furnish. He dreads no enemy. And though he yields 
to one, it is an enemy conquered. But the victory in 
such cases extends much farther than to what has par- 
ticular relation to the expiring christian. His example 
achieves a victory over the prejudices and scepticism of 
beholders. What like such a scene to confound the 
enemies of experimental piety ; to convince gainsayers ; 
to encourage and confirm the timid, the weak and trem.-* 



406 

bling ! Good men in their dying hours have often by 
their example of holy courage, and indifference to life, 
done more to advance the cause of Christ, than their 
whole life of activity in that cause had done. 

The subject must present, as ineffably desirable, the 
condition of vital believers. To triumph over the 
painful incidents and circumstances of ordinary life, is 
a victory of no small account. But christians over- 
come in the issue of their conflicts every evil. They 
are more than conquerors through the blood of the 

LAMB, AND THE WORD OF THEIR. TESTIMONY. Mere 

conquerors might be called to dispute, again and again, 
the right to dominion with rising foes. But the con- 
quest of christians is final, decisive, everlasting. They 
will have to breast the gathering hosts of sins, and sor- 
rows, and frowns, and foes, no more forever ! 

Let us seriously inquire, then, who of us have rea- 
son to anticipate such a victory. Not they who place 
no heartfelt dependance on the atonement of Christ. 
This subject shows us that there is meaning in the ex- 
pression, the blood of the lamb — that there is. 
efficacy and power in that blood — an efficacy and pow- 
er indispensably necessary to enable any of the chil- 
dren of men to triumph over the sins and evils of their 
character and condition. — They have no good reason 
to expect such a victory, who do not contemplate with 
interest and feel the power of the Saviour's example. 
We must imitate Christ, if we would hope to conquer 
with him. We must follow him, if we would expect 
him to crown us conquerors. We must follow him in 
the regeneration, if we would rationally anticipate a 
place in his kingdom above. — They can have no suffi- 
cient grounds to look for such a victory who employ 

not THE WORD OF THEIR TESTIMONY the SWOrd of 

the Spirit. We must be the bold and constant witnes- 
ses to the truth as it is in Jesus, in order that our Jesus 
shall conduct us into the possession of the promised rest. 
They cannot have good reason to expect such a victo- 



V 



RD- 5 -4 



AND VICTORY. 40? 

ry, who are not ready to lay down their lives in the 
cause, and for the sake of Christ. He that would 
save his life shall lose it, and he that would lose his 
life shall save it. And what if we should not attain 
this victory ? Why, if we do not conquer, we shall be 
conquered. If we do not triumph through our Lord, 
we shall wail with our malignant destroyer. — If we do 
not wear the victor's crown we shall wear the chains of 
darkness. 







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